The Last Frontiersmen
by Pookie2
Summary: The Courier goes undercover to expose a group of Anti-NCR terrorists. Part 14 of the "All the Things You Are" storyline. Rated for language, violence, sexual content.
1. Ride For the Brand

My editor assures me that you folks won't contract diabetes from this chapter. If any of you are currently diabetic, please check your levels after reading this. Thank you.

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><p>Layla couldn't help but feel nostalgic as she walked down the cracked desert road. It was probably because she was traveling alone, with no fancy armor or chainsaw on her back. She had no one to talk to, not even ED-E, and the lack of noise from his buzzing around was particularly noticeable. Yes, she felt like she'd been before Benny shot her in the head; half-cocked and underpowered.<p>

Though she did have to admit she'd never have been running around in a business suit and high heels before. She wouldn't have been on official diplomatic business either. The NCR had been seeking contact with the remaining independent factions in the Mojave, offering them a place within the new unified territory.

There had been more rejections than not. Most of the groups who'd managed to stay neutral throughout the hostilities between the NCR and Caesar's Legion weren't going to change their minds so quickly. Layla had been pleasantly surprised that the local NCR representatives seemed to respect their wishes to remain independent. She'd been a little worried they'd just walk in and start demanding tax money. Westside, Jacobstown, Freeside, Primm and Novac, among others, were all recognized as free towns.

Now, Layla was on her way to meet with a group that had shown an interest in joining the NCR. The Courier had been chosen over the normal diplomats for this task due to the slightly bizarre nature of the group; the surviving remnants of the Fiends were requesting to join the NCR.

Layla was pretty sure this was going to be a disaster, but she'd been surprised by people before. There wasn't much left of the Fiends since Motor-Runner and his goons had been killed, but the small groups were still making trouble. If they were willing to accept the NCR's terms, it would not only give them a new chance at life, but make life a little easier for everyone in the Mojave.

The month that had passed since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam had been busy, but a little mundane. Life consisted of meetings, delegations, negotiations, renegotiations and enough stuffed shirt politicians to make her almost miss the Legion's ever-present threat. It had been weeks since anyone had tried to kill, kidnap or otherwise do her harm.

That was a good thing - she knew that - but it did make life a little boring. Politicking was usually as dull as things could get, only broken up by the occasional diplomatic mission.

As she reached for the door leading into the South Vegas ruins, she started to regret wearing the heels. The ground had been bumpy enough on the road. In the ruins, she was going to be lucky if she didn't fall on her face.

The area she stepped into was just as depressing and creepy as she remembered. Of course, it had also been swarming with murderous Fiends. Their numbers had been greatly thinned since. The place was deserted now. As she walked, she thought she heard movement near one of the bombed-out buildings, but couldn't see any source for the noise.

Now Layla was starting to get nervous. Fortunately, they weren't meeting near the entrance of Vault 3. The mutilated bodies strung around had always put her on edge, and she got the feeling she was going to need her wits about her for this. She walked past Zapp's Neon signs to the road just east, where she was supposed to meet her contact.

No one was there to greet her. Checking her Pip-Boy, she found the she was a few minute early. Sighing, she settled in to wait. Other than the destroyed cars and ruined buildings, there wasn't much to look at.

She was just about to turn on her radio when she finally saw figures coming down the road in her direction. As they got closer, Layla could make out the distinctive armor of six Fiends. In the center of the group was a tall man with angry-looking scars covering his exposed torso. She figured that must be Jaundice, her contact. When they'd come within a few yards, he motioned for the group to stop.

"You the NCR lady?" he asked. Layla was momentarily heartened; he didn't sound like he was high or about to gut her.

"That's me," she answered. "My name's Layla… Are you Jaundice?"

"Yeah." He looked her over a little more slowly than she felt comfortable with. "So, what's the offer?"

"Amnesty from any crimes committed, so long as all members agree to go through a rehabilitation program set up by the Followers of the Apocalypse," she explained. "Once the Followers are satisfied with your recovery, you'll essentially be on parole. You'll be set up with jobs and have to check in to make sure everything's going smoothly."

It was a sweet deal, much sweeter than most of the NCR representatives wanted to offer. If the Fiends truly wanted to get clean and get a fresh start, this was going to be their best shot. Jaundice nodded.

"We need a minute to talk this over," he said.

"Oh, sure," Layla answered, stepping away. She was amazed; and now very glad she hadn't taken a few of the bets that had been offered on the way out of the Embassy. After talking with the others for a moment, Jaundice turned back her way.

"We've got a counter-offer for you," he said, and Layla did not like the veiled threat in his tone.

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"You do what we say and we'll let you live to give the NCR our answer." He advanced toward her, the rest of the group forming a semi-circle around him.

_Uh oh. _"Jaundice, for the sake of your people, don't throw this opportunity away," Layla said firmly, trying to not make any hostile moves. "You have a chance to get your lives back." The Fiend was almost within arm's reach, and she took a step back. "If you do anything to me, you won't be getting this offer again."

"When we send what's left of you back to the NCR, tell them our answer is no." He coiled himself to spring at her when his head suddenly exploded.

Layla dropped to the ground, drawing her magnum from the holster under her suit coat, and shot at the next closest Fiend coming her way. She didn't even know why she bothered; all six Fiends were missing their heads or other equally important body parts before she'd been able to score a decent hit.

Getting back to her feet, she saw half of 1st Recon looking at her from the nearby bombed-out building further down the road. Bitter-Root lazily waved to her from one of the windows. She waved back, despite herself, then looked behind her to see Boone and Gorobets climbing down from the neon sign building behind her.

As the snipers approached, Layla put her hands on her hips and addressed Boone. "I thought you weren't going to shoot until I gave the signal? I could have talked my way out of that."

"I gave the order," Gorobets said. "Command wouldn't have been too happy with you getting injured on my watch." He grinned. "That, and Boone's first mission back shouldn't end in beating his superior to a pulp for letting you get hurt."

Layla's frown lessened, but didn't vanish completely. She looked back at the bodies on the ground.

"Idiots… That was a really good deal they threw away."

"Sometimes you can't reason with people like that," Gorobets said.

The Courier sighed and shook her head. Then she perked up. "As a high-powered diplomat-type, I demand an escort back to the Strip."

Gorobets laughed at that just as the rest of 1st Recon joined them. "I'm supposed to see you back safe."

"I'm also going to take advantage of my position to sexually harass one of your men," she said as she hooked her arm in Boone's.

"You politicians are all corrupt," the lieutenant said, and Layla laughed.

*.*.*

There were muffins on the table. Muffins. Layla hadn't seen a muffin in ten years. And there was a whole basket of them on the table. How the hell were they supposed to have a meeting when muffins were looking her in the eye. Taunting her with their deliciousness-

"Miss Granville?" came from across the room. Layla looked up.

"Yes, Councilman Watson?" she answered, stopping herself from frowning. She hadn't liked the man's tone. Putting it kindly, the gaggle of secretaries, councilors and cabinet members who'd been assigned to help the Mojave on its way to becoming an NCR state had been a little stiff. Not kindly, they were a bunch of stuck-up douche bags with sticks up their asses. The eight people at the table with her represented the closest thing New Vegas' had to a government at the moment.

"I asked if you were trying to undermine our diplomatic efforts, or was this a happy coincidence on your part?" the man nearly snarled.

"Was there a particular reason for that remark, or are we waxing poetic again?" she responded evenly. The man's frown deepened.

"The Freeside… 'delegation' has been making things difficult again," he said, anger starting to show in his voice, "and their leader claims it's because of promises _you_ made."

Ah yes, she remembered why she didn't like Watson in particular. He seemed to think she was sabotaging NCR interests on purpose by treating the people of the Mojave with a little understanding. She inwardly calmed herself, then spoke.

"The Kings," she said pointedly, "are the leaders of a sovereign nation. Are you telling me we should start backing out on our agreements because we don't like the reality of them?" She leaned back in her chair. "I thought the point of this meeting and our current efforts was getting the Mojave to like the NCR, not hate it."

"A sovereign nation isn't supposed to be reliant on free handouts-," Watson started, but Layla bolted upright in her chair.

"Don't you tell me you've been trying to go back on Colonel Hsu's supply offer," she snarled. "I'd better not hear another goddamned word about you wanting children to starve on Freeside's streets because your dick's bent out of shape!"

The council member stared, wide-eyed at her for a moment. Looking away, he mumbled something about it not being a problem. Layla sat back in her chair, trying to get her temper to back down. She found herself sounding more and more like Cass in these 'civilized talks.' The caravaneer would no doubt be pleased.

The tone of the meeting had changed considerably since her outburst. Most of the people at the table looked uncomfortable, but the newly-promoted Governor Crocker was all smiles.

"Now that Freeside is settled, how did your talk with the Fiends go?" he asked. Layla bit back another sigh, knowing this would get blown out of proportion.

"They were… insincere in their willingness to negotiate," she answered.

"What happened?" asked Douglas, one of the other council members. The graying man wasn't wholly unlikable, but Layla always felt like she was under a microscope when he looked at her.

"It was an ambush; they never wanted to talk." She thumbed through her files, then set a folder on the center of the meeting table. "This is Lieutenant Gorobets' report on the technical, tactical aspects of the 'negotiations.'" She sat back on her chair. "So it was a bust."

Douglas reached for the report and started reading through it. Layla caught a smile on General Manning's face. The one-star general had been shipped out to the Mojave as the military liaison, working under the recently promoted Brigadier General Moore. While she did like Manning, Layla found herself fairly annoyed that Colonel Hsu hadn't been given this spot. But he was still overseeing Camp McCarran.

She decided to ignoring the annoyances of political dealings and the reminder that she now had a general in the area who hated her. Layla looked up as Ambassador Crocker addressed the group again.

"General, have we got an update on Legion movement I can send back west?"

Manning grimaced somewhat before going through is own files. "Strike-and-fades are still happening in areas near the Colorado."

Layla frowned. "Do they seem to have any purpose? Are they after anything?"

"Just attacking populated areas and raiding for supplies. Gaius Magnus doesn't seem to have a grand scheme," the general said as he slid a paper over to the Courier. "He just seems to want to cause trouble for us."

"Has Magnus named himself 'Legate?' yet" Layla asked as she picked up the sheet. The centurion had taken command of the Legion after their loss at the dam and had been striking out at the NCR since.

"If he has, they've kept it quiet," the general grumbled, "Which means no."

Layla glanced over the casualty numbers and regions that had been hit. "'Glorious Caesar' didn't really give a damn about what would happen to his people after he died, huh?"

"Does that surprise you?" Manning snorted. "The good news is that with the Legate gone and the frumentarii wiped out, it's just a matter of time before they tear themselves apart."

The Courier nodded, then handed back the report. The general accepted the papers back and passed them on to Crocker. "We'll get them, but it won't be easy. You tell the boys back west that we still need our standing force out here."

Crocker nodded. "If there was nothing else…?" he asked, looking around the table. No one spoke. "Let's call this meeting adjourned."

Everyone started gathering their things to leave, and Layla noticed Crocker gesturing her over. She lingered as the others left.

"Where were you when I was a young diplomat?" he asked once they were alone. "These meetings are downright tedious without you stirring things up."

Layla found herself blushing. "I hope I'm not making things worse."

Crocker waved the comment away. "It isn't anything that doesn't need to be said," he laughed. "I don't know how you're able to insult Watson's manhood, vaguely threaten him and sound civil in one sentence, but you managed. Are you sure you don't want to become a full-time politician?"

The Courier grinned marginally. "Nah, these meetings wear on me. I've been begging the rangers to give me jobs to do to keep myself from going mad."

"Speaking of which," Crocker said, "I have a letter for you from Chief Hanlon." That got her attention.

"Ooo! Gimme gimme gimme!" she cried, causing the governor to laugh as he handed it over. Tearing open the envelope, she grinned at the note inside.

"_Layla Granville,_

_This is an official request by the New California Republic Rangers for your services as an independent contractor. If you are interested, please report to Camp Golf on Monday, the 15__th__, 0800._

_Sincerely, _

_Chief Hanlon"_

There was a note behind the official summons, and Layla smiled further as she read it.

"_Got something you're really gonna like, Kiddo."_

"Thank you, Governor," she said, beaming in his direction. "Looks like I might be unavailable for a while. Oh, and please don't let them call any emergency meetings this weekend," she continued, a humorless grin starting to crowd her face. "I know that one two weeks ago was because Watson knew Boone was home and he's a petty jerk."

"So long as no one dies, I'll make myself unavailable," Crocker said, smiling. "Go on home, I'm sure he's already on his weekend pass."

Layla smiled. "You're too good to me."

"Take the muffins while you're at it. I can't be left alone with them."

"You do not need to ask me twice."

*.*.*

"I'm home! Can someone help me with these?" Layla called as the elevator to the Lucky 38's suite opened. No one answered her.

She sighed, shifting the bags in her arms. "I've got baked goods!"

Veronica and Arcade appeared seconds later. The Courier dumped the groceries in Arcade's arms and her briefcase and stack of books into Veronica's.

"Why do you get to hold the… are those muffins?" Arcade asked as he looked at the basket in Layla's hands.

"Yes," she answered. "They look really good… but not until after dinner."

"Yes, mother," Veronica grumbled. Once in the kitchen, they started putting away the food Layla had bought on the way home.

"Did Boone get in yet?" Layla asked as they finished.

"Yeah, he's in the shower," Veronica answered. The Courier nodded, then started for the bathroom.

"Pervert," the scribe called after her.

Layla grinned as she approached the bathroom, hearing water still running. Opening the door, she slipped in as quietly as possible. She chewed her lip a moment and debated on what to do. She could throw open the shower curtain, but she'd probably get water everywhere. She'd joined in on Boone's showers in the past, but he had to be nearly done by now.

So, she decided on a stake-out. Sitting on the desk chair by the door, she grinned. Steamy, naked Boone would be just the thing to wind down from a busy day. Glancing around while she waited, Layla spied an issue of True Police Stories she hadn't seen before on the desk.

As she started reading a story about a Nazi organ farmer, she felt hands close over her shoulders and yelped. Boone had emerged from his shower and snuck up on her. She hadn't even noticed the water turning off.

Shaking her head, Layla grinned at him. "Why do I bother trying to sneak around you?"

Boone merely shrugged, and she grinned as she found him in only a towel, skin still damp. Standing, she kissed him.

"How was your day?" she asked.

"Had to guard a politician," the sniper said. "She managed to screw up the mission."

"Oh really?" Layla gave him a mock-glare. Boone nodded.

"How was your day?" he asked as he gathered his clothes.

"I had to deal with meat-head soldiers most of the day," she retorted as she snatched his beret off the pile of clothes and put it on.

"I'll be out in a few minutes, gonna shave first," Boone said after a half-hearted attempt to get his beret back.

"Oh can't you wait until tomorrow?" she pouted; three days of stubble was the scruffiest she'd ever seen Boone, something that only happened when he was on assignment. The man grumbled; he wasn't a fan of letting his hair or face get 'overgrown.' He looked at her batting eyelashes and sighed.

"Fine, but I'm shaving in the morning."

Layla grinned and kissed him. Boone used the opportunity to grab his beret off her head, stuffing it along with the rest of his clothes under his arm.

"Brought you something."

"Oh yeah?" Layla perked up at that. "What is it?"

"In your room," he said. Layla tried to maintain a slight air of dignity as she ran for the master bedroom to see what her surprise was. On her bed were a few rolled up bolts of unmarred fabric and a pre-war sewing case.

"Oooooh!" the Courier squealed as she opened the case. It was packed with sewing implements and equipment.

"Spades actually found it," Boone said, having followed her in. "We thought you'd like it."

Layla's smile faltered when she turned to find the sniper had already gotten dressed. "Thank you… Who said you could put clothes back on?"

He shrugged, and she was about to pounce on him when she heard a call from the hallway.

"Layla! You said you'd make dinner!" Veronica hollered. "Quit being a pervert and feed me!"

Layla sighed, aborting her pounce. "Duty calls."

*.*.*

Layla knew that one day her friends would go their separate ways. Now that the threat of the Legion wasn't looming over their heads and the Mojave was starting to settle down, everyone would be going back to their lives. But just because she'd known it didn't make her happy about it.

Cass was starting up her caravan at the end of the month; Layla had fronted her the money to get it going again. Raul didn't come to the 38 nearly as much as he used to. Arcade was talking about going back to the Boneyard to teach medicine. Lily pretty much just stayed in Jacobstown now, tending to her heard and receiving treatment. Boone was there as much as work allowed, and Layla was pretty sure she wouldn't be rid of him for a long time. Which left Veronica; the scribe had taken up a fairly permanent residence in the Lucky 38 with her.

The thought of everyone moving on was depressing, but she admitted she was only currently dwelling on it so she could stop thinking about the movie she was watching. Cass, Veronica and Arcade had been enjoying it, but Layla was trying very hard to give the impression she wasn't freaking out. Maybe if she got herself worked up enough about everyone leaving, she could start crying and they could stop watching the movie.

Layla had managed to calmed herself down past the point of wanting to turn off the TV and throw the holotape out the window. But as another stalking sequence started up she bit her lip and gripped the sheet bunched up in her hand tighter. She'd thought she'd been hiding it well, but Boone put an arm around her protectively as she tensed further.

Something warm and fuzzy went off in her chest, and she scooted a little closer to the sniper. A wave of contentment settled over her. Forgetting about the movie for a moment, she decided she'd spend the time she had left with her friends enjoying it, not mourning that it was almost over.

Then, when it turned out the alien had been hiding on the escape pod, Layla shrieked.

"Wuss," Cass admonished. Soon afterward, the creature was blown out of an airlock and the credits rolled.

"That was a good one," Veronica said, sitting up. She looked at the others in the room. "So, do you want to watch another one? I think we have the sequel."

"Naw," Layla answered, trying to sound casual. "I'm ready for bed."

Veronica gave her an incredulous look. "It's only nine."

"Yeah, well I had a long day. I had to deal with threats to my person and politicking. It's very tiresome."

"I can imagine," Arcade said as he stood from his chair and stretched. "Come on, you know how old couples get. If they stay up too late they get cranky."

Layla threw a pillow at the doctor, striking him in the back.

"See?" he said. "It's sad, really."

"Get out," Layla said, threatening with another pillow. A few moments later, everyone but Boone had vacated, and Layla lied back on the bed with a sigh.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" Boone asked as he moved closer to her.

"No plans all weekend," Layla said. "Oh, wait, I have unfinished business with you." He looked at her as she sat up. She grabbed his shirt and pulled it off, then finally pounced on him.

"Thought you were tired," he said, then groaned as she nibbled and bit his shoulder. He made a frustrated noise when her mouth retreated from him.

"Yeah, I guess so." She scooted to her side of the bed and stretched. "Good night, sweetheart. Sleep we-AH!" she squealed as Boone dragged her back to the center of the bed, pinning her as she giggled.

*.*.*

It was the same dream that always woke him. The one he'd never be rid of. Screaming children and gunfire.

Boone used to have that dream every night, only broken up by the one he'd have about Cottonwood. Now it was far less often, once or twice a month at most. It was always the same thing, and was always just as upsetting.

He dragged a hand over his face and sighed as the last traces of the nightmare started to fade. Not long ago, those dreams had been the only thing he'd thought about.

Soon after he'd reenlisted and was transferred to 1st Recon, Lieutenant Gorobets had taken him aside to talk. No one had spoken about Bitter Springs when it had happened, and Boone had left the army afterward. While he'd been gone, the others had started talking about it and dealing with the aftermath. Their lives weren't back to normal, like they'd been before the massacre, but they were able to live with it now.

By leaving the military, Boone had run away from another family, only this time it had been the family that really cared about him. If he'd stayed with the unit, they would have worked it out together, like Gorobets, Betsy and Sterling had. He would still have married Carla and things… might have been different.

He frowned and banished the thought. There was no sense in dealing with what could have been, something Sterling liked to say. Boone had told his unit about what had happened to Carla, well, most of it. He hadn't been able to make himself say how she'd died, but Gorobets and Sterling seemed to have figured it out on their own. The support he'd gotten from them when he'd come clean made him wonder why he'd ever thought leaving was a good idea.

The only strained topic when it came to the group was Manny. Boone hadn't spoken about the man, but he got the feeling Layla had filled 1st Recon in on what happened between the two since they'd moved to Novac. He was pretty sure Betsy was going to have words with Manny if they passed by the town again.

Sighing, he looked over to the other side of the bed and felt a smile tug on his mouth at what he saw. Layla was only half-covered by the blanket, face shoved into her pillow, probably drooling.

The Courier slept like she was heavily drugged when she was in her own bed. She'd taken to using Boone as her alarm clock when he was home, as he usually rose much earlier than she. He didn't mind, even if she usually responded to his attempts to wake her with a 'ten more minutes,' then turned over and went right back to sleep.

It hadn't taken long to get comfortable living with another person again. Since they'd gotten together, Boone had given up going back to Novac regularly. He never used to stayed at the casino for long when Layla wasn't there. Now, he'd moved his things here. Now the 38 was his home.

He moved closer and gently pulled Layla into his arms. She murmured, then seemed to get comfortable and stilled again after he got the blanket back over them. A moment later she kicked her feet free from under the covers.

Boone ran a hand gently through her loose hair. Some people never got a chance at life, a thought that always made him think of his unborn child. Once the sharp ache in his chest subsided, he looked down at the girl in his arms and wondered again why he'd gotten two.

*.*.*

"I looooove lazy Sundays," Veronica said, kicking her feet up on the kitchen table.

Cass tore the top of another muffin from its base. She liked to eat the stem first, then move on to the superior top. Layla had told them she'd gotten the baked goods from her meeting, but she thought she might be able to figure out how to make them.

"You look like you're gutting an animal for parts when you eat those," Veronica said. Cass shrugged at that.

"I like to save the best for last."

"Hmph, that's not what I hear from your dates," Layla said from the stove as she continued stirring the molerat stew she was making for dinner.

"Screwing and muffin eating are two different things." The woman made a face as she realized what she'd said. Veronica and Layla had already started laughing.

"She's right, though," Layla said as she calmed down. "Very different."

"Speaking of which…" Cass said, starting to grin. "Are you ever gonna tell us how he is?" Layla gave her a confused look. Veronica immediately perked up.

"Oh yeah, tell tell tell tell." Now the Courier looked back and forth between both women, still puzzled.

"Wha-"

"Why do you even care?" Cass interrupted, looking at Veronica. The scribe looked mildly offended.

"Just because I don't want to partake doesn't mean I don't want to hear about it. Don't you ever talk to guys about you conquests?"

"Yeah, but usually I'm planning on making them one." She looked back to Layla. "So, how is he?"

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," the Courier answered, finally understanding. Both Veronica and Cass started laughing at the same time, making Layla glare at them.

"We're not going to let this go," the scribe said once she'd calmed down. "It'll be a lot better for everyone if you just tell us now."

Layla sighed heavily, giving the stew another stir. "Fine. He's amazing. Happy?"

"Details," Cass said firmly.

Now Layla looked exasperated. "He's strong as a big horner and very attentive. You're going to have to use your imagination for the rest."

"You're such a prude," Veronica retorted.

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading! Updates will be back to WednesdaySaturdays, so I'll see you on the 25th (assuming my government doesn't make the internet illegal).

Oh, and I've been posting some small snippets that are officially part of the 'All the Things You Are' storyline over at the Fallout Kink Meme on livejournal. No, they're not dirty, but they won't fit in any of the main stories. Head over to my tumblr ('pookie2') or check out the kink meme itself. Oh, of course, please note that the meme in general is NSFW and that folks under the age of 14 shouldn't be on there.


	2. Piece of Pudding

'_If you have money, and you want more in the future, you've got to invest it.' _How many times had Layla's father told her that? She'd lost count by the time she was fourteen. The Courier certainly hadn't thought she'd ever be able to put the advice to use; she hadn't had much money until very recently.

Drumming her fingers on the counter she was leaning against, she found herself nervous. She was about to spend a lot of money. Biting her lip, she went over the numbers in her head again and double-checked with herself that she wanted to go through with this. She did. Maybe. Yes. This was a good idea… she hoped.

ED-E warbled as he bumped against her arm, and she smiled at the robot.

"Yeah yeah, I'm okay. This is just… well, you know, strange."

The eyebot whistled at that.

"Are you carrying on a conversation with that flying toaster again?" Mr. Nash said as he walked into the room. ED-E responded with a high-pitched static noise.

"Cut it out or I'll throw you out," the old man said, swiping a hand at the robot as it flew over his head. ED-E retreated behind Layla, and Nash returned his attention to the girl. "Is it time?"

"If you're ready," Layla answered. Nash nodded and went to his safe.

"You got the caps?" he asked over his shoulder.

"I do," the Courier said, setting down her bag. The space inside was almost completely taken up by a sack of bottle caps that she wrestled out. "Are you sure about this? I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

The old man gave her an incredulous look as she set the huge bag on the counter. "Layla, if you want to pay me an even more ridiculously high amount than this, I wouldn't mind one bit. But we have an agreement, and I aim to keep it."

"I know." She bit her lip. "But it's not like you're really retiring. You're gonna keep working, right?"

"Life would be a little too boring watching the paint peel," Nash answered. "And it'll be nice to have a little nest egg incase you drive this place into the ground."

Layla grinned. "If you feel like going to the Strip with any of it, stay at the Tops. Tell Swank you're my boss. They'll treat you right."

Nash waved her off. "Aren't they the ones that shot you?"

"Just one," she answered. "But really, if you don't really want to-"

"Cut it out already," the old man said, then slid a paper to her. "Sign the bottom."

Layla did so, under Nash's signature. Looking up, she saw him pat the sack of caps.

"Congratulations, you now own the Mojave Express."

Layla grinned, then straightened. "ED-E, come here a minute."

The robot warbled suspiciously, then floated over. Layla unscrewed a panel in the robot's side and put the deed inside.

"Just remind me to put that in the safe at home when we get back," she said, and ED-E whistled. Looking back at Nash, she bit her lip again.

"Thank you… and you're sure you're okay with keeping this a secret?"

"Of course," Nash answered. "Hell, discretion's half a good courier's job. Now stop worrying. You'll have your little messenger army. So long as you don't plan on reading other people's mail, we're not going to have a problem."

Layla nodded. She'd decided to keep this deal quiet. Now that she was in the political game, it couldn't hurt to have a messenger service on her payroll. As for keeping it a secret; she'd learned very quickly never to show your hand in politics.

By now, Nash had locked the caps in the safe. Turning back he gave the girl a smile.

"Staying for breakfast? Mrs. Nash is due back any minute."

"I'd love to, but…" She looked down at her Pip-Boy. "Oh! I've gotta go now. I've got a meeting in less than two hours all they way up at Camp Golf."

"You'd better skedaddle then," Nash said. "Should I call you boss now?"

"No." Layla answered automatically as she slung her now much lighter bag over her shoulder. "Never. You'll always be the boss, Mr. Nash."

"If you say so," the old man laughed.

*.*.*

Layla was running at top speed as she started up the stairs to the House Resort's second floor. She was going to be late to her official summons. That wouldn't look good. Nearly stumbling up the stairs, she decided to slow down. Late was better than late and bleeding.

Reaching the top floor, she ran for the double doors to the balcony. Just as she reached them, she stopped, tried to smooth her hair with her hands, then reached for the handle. She stepped out to find Chief Hanlon at the radio station. There was another ranger with him, who stood when he saw her.

"Bought time you showed up," Hanlon grumbled. "I thought you gave up on us."

"I'm sorry, I got delayed on my way over," Layla said.

"Uh huh," the old ranger chuckled, then looked to the other man. "Layla, this is Ranger Merritt." The man he indicated looked to be a few years older than Layla, early thirties at most. He had carefully slicked down dark hair and an easy smile on his handsome face as he held out a hand to her.

"I've heard a lot about you, Miss Granville," he said as Layla shook his hand.

"Oh yeah?" The Courier grinned. "I'd be curious to hear what it is you've heard.'

"That depends on who you talk to," Merritt answered. "Some say you're the savior of the Mojave , and others say you're a meddling troublemaker."

That made her laugh. "Which one do you believe?" she couldn't help but ask.

"I know better than making assumptions based on rumors, especially when it comes to politicians."

"Oh no," Layla looked over to Hanlon. "That's it then? I'm a politician now?"

"Not my fault you were leader of a sovereign nation," the chief said with a shrug.

"All right." Layla crossed her arms over her chest. "If you're both done calling me dirty names, let's hear what I've been summoned for."

"Ranger Merritt here has got a situation that calls for a civilian," Hanlon answered, gesturing to one on of the two chairs by the table. "I told him, given your abilities, that you'd be a good candidate."

"Oh yeah?" Layla asked as she and Merritt sat. "This isn't about being bait, is it? That never goes well."

"Not exactly," Merritt answered. Reaching into the briefcase by his feet, he started pulling out file folders. "Have you been to New Sloan?"

"'New' Sloan?" Layla asked, "Oh! Is the construction done by the quarry?"

"It's been done for a few weeks," the ranger answered, then handed her a stack of papers. "Clarke Williams funded the new town after purchasing Quarry Junction."

Layla nodded. "Brahmin baron, trying to live out the old west?"

Merritt turned an impressed look in Hanlon's direction, who shrugged.

"Couriers; all a bunch of busybodies." Layla gave him a mock-glower as Merritt turned a grin in her direction.

"So it is true you haven't been there?"

"No, I've never been to 'New Sloan,'" she answered. "Why?"

"The Mojave has recently developed a terrorist problem," the ranger said simply. "We'd been seeing minor incidents, but things are starting to escalate. We know there are organized groups, but they've proven difficult to find. We have reason to believe there's a cell in New Sloan."

Layla bit her lip, she'd heard whispers of dissidents in the area. She knew it was going to come up; there were plenty of people not happy about the NCR coming to the Mojave. But this felt more personal than she'd expected.

"What have they done?"

"There was sabotage to Quarry Junction's equipment before the new town was built. Beyond that, there have been NCR patrols in the area that have either gone missing or turned up dead."

Layla nodded, frowning. "What is it you'd like me to do?"

"We need a civilian to infiltrate their ranks, Merritt explained. "You'll be sent into town to get acclimated and gain the people's trust. Once you've had time to do so, we'll be temporarily stationing a unit of soldiers in the area. They'll be working under the guise of trying to root out the Powder Gangers that have been making trouble in the region. Meanwhile, you'll be keeping an eye on the townspeople's reaction to their presence." He grinned somewhat. "If you express an anti-NCR attitude, you'll more than likely get into the group's good books."

"I'm not so sure this will work," Layla said. "I've been to Sloan a bunch of times. The workers all know me."

"The old ones did," Merritt corrected. "Since Williams built his town, only two of the original residents are still in the area: Jas Wilkins and Chomp Lewis, and they're working for us.

Layla raised an eyebrow.

"Lewis was running drugs for the Khans," the chief explained. "He'd have been shipped back to California in irons if it wasn't for this little deal."

"Really?" Layla would have never suspected it out of the man. "What about Jas?"

"Jas has her own special problems we've been kind enough to blackmail her with," Hanlon said. "She's a cannibal."

"She's… what?" Layla blanched. "No."

"What's wrong?" Merritt asked, apparently concerned with sickly look that had come over the girl.

"I've eaten her food… Oh God, you don't think-"

"Naw, she kept that to herself," Hanlon answered. "She's not a murderer, just a cannibal of opportunity. I guess it didn't come up enough to share."

The Courier had to swallow her revulsion. "What's she still doing in town?"

"Working the saloon's kitchen."

Layla grimaced at that. She noticed Merritt giving her a concerned look.

"Do you think you'll be able to do this?" he asked.

"I do," she answered automatically. "Though I admit, this seems a little vague to start with."

"Well, we didn't think we'd have anything to go on, but we caught a break with Jas. Turns out the group was looking to recruit more members. She'd been contacted, but declined. We now have the group's name and the identity of one member."

He handed her another file. Layla glanced it over. "The Last Frontiersmen?"

"According to Jas, the group was initially a coalition of 'concerned citizens' opposed to the NCR's influence spreading to independent areas. At some point, they turned to actively destructive measures. Jas declined the invitation, but was able to give us the name of her contact."

"Darren Williams?" Layla read from the file. "Is he connected to the brahmin baron?"

"He's 'Mayor' William's son," Merritt answered, "and the only member we've been able to find. Jas is certain the group is based in New Sloan, and that they're looking to increase their ranks."

"So, if you get in good with him, and show you're not a fan of the NCR, they'll hopefully let you in," Chief Hanlon said, giving Layla an appraising look. "Think you're up to it?"

"If you guys think I am, I'm more than willing to help," Layla answered.

"You've definitely got a way of getting information out of people," Hanlon said with a grin.

"Good," Merritt said, then handed Layla a group of folders. "This is information on the town and its people. You'll be meeting with 1st Recon in Goodsprings on Friday, then moving on to New Sloan on Monday. They'll have your disguise and any further information you'll need. They'll be coming into town a week later."

"1st Recon?" Layla looked up from the folder. "Alpha squad?"

"Led by Lieutenant Gorobets," Merritt said with a nod. "Is that a problem?"

"Well, I have no problem with that," Layla said, "but I don't know what your policy on dating in the workplace is…"

"I am aware of your relationship," Merritt said, then grinned. "Specialist Boone was concerned about putting you in harm's way."

"He knew about this?" Layla gaped. "How long?"

"Last Friday," the ranger answered.

"That rat! He knew all weekend and didn't tell me."

"It was classified."

"Oh," Layla sighed. "Say no more." Boone was steadfast when it came to orders. If he was told not to talk about something, he wouldn't talk. No amount of dangling food or other earthly pleasures in front of him would make him budge on such matters. Even stealing his beret didn't work.

"If that's settled," Merritt said, "the final issue for now is your equipment. There will be some things you'll have to leave behind so you won't be recognized."

Layla bit her lip. "Like what?"

"Things you're well known for," he explained. "There's the black, light armor, pearl handled revolver, and even Legion POWs talk about the chainsaw, so I don't suggest bringing either of those."

Layla couldn't help but grin at that. Merritt glanced at ED-E as he buzzed around the Courier's head.

"I'm afraid your eyebot will have to stay home," he said. She'd expected that, but going by the electronic raspberry the robot blew, he hadn't.

"There there," Layla said to the robot. "Think of it like a vacation. You can watch vids with Veronica and compress your data in peace."

ED-E warbled at her. "See? And I'll be okay; 1st Recon will be close by the whole time."

The next round of beeps were much more cheerful, and Layla smiled. Looking back to Merritt, she found him watching the eyebot with interest before turning back to her.

"The last item of note would be your Pip-Boy."

"What?" She looked down at the machine on her arm. "But… plenty of people have Pip-Boys."

"Locally, there are the Winetraubs on the Strip and you," he said. "People even know you're not a vault dweller, just have a Pip-Boy."

Now Layla was at a loss; the machine on her arm had been her constant companion for nearly a year.

"All right, I'll deal with it," she sighed.

"Good." Merritt's grin was back. "Go over the plans. If you have questions beforehand, let us know. Otherwise, I'll have further instructions for you in Goodsprings on Friday."

Layla grinned and gathered her things. "Sounds good."

"Oh, Gorobets wanted me to pass you a message," Hanlon said as she stood. "Boone's new partner's finally arrived."

"Oh boy," Layla laughed. "Poor thing doesn't know what he's in for."

*.*.*

Mitch Kalinowski was having terrible luck picking up girls lately. That was a new problem for him; he was tall and dark and handsome, add an NCR uniform and the recently acquired mystique of being a 1st Recon sniper, and he should be irresistible.

But no, the ladies hadn't been biting since his recent transfer to the sniper battalion. He knew why: his partner. Why go for devastatingly handsome Mitch when they could fawn over the guy who killed Caesar?

He continued to curse his bad luck as he tossed his cigarette butt from the saloon's porch, but wondered if it was about to change as he noticed a girl walking into town. Goodsprings hadn't been exactly a haven for lookers before now. He watched as the girl's dark brown eyes scanned the area, and she looked up at her floating robot with a grin. She was dressed in some kind of light combat armor, but Mitch could still make out a nice set of curves. He was starting to think she was a hallucination as she pulled the pins from her hair, shaking it out of the bun it'd been trapped in.

Deciding to check if she was in fact real, Mitch made his approach.

"Why hello there," he said, and the girl started. Apparently she hadn't noticed him as he walked up. Mitch saw her eyes travel up to his beret.

"New in town, I see. Need an escort?" said the sniper, winking.

"1st Recon, huh?" the girl said, "I think I might know your partner."

"You and most of the Mojave," Mitch groaned. It never failed. "I suppose that means you're looking for him?"

"Does he get a lot of women asking for him?" the girl asked. "I hear he's got a girlfriend."

"Oh, that doesn't stop everyone from getting all starry-eyed around him." Mitch blew out a sigh, but his grin was suddenly back. "But let's not dwell on people who aren't here. Can _I_ do something for _you_?"

"I'm sorry, I should probably introduce myself. I-" She stopped, seeing something over his shoulder. Turning, he groaned as he saw Boone and Betsy leaving the bar. He set his face in a determined grimace. Nope, he wasn't going to lose this one, Craig Boone be damned.

As he turned to talk to the girl again, he found she'd started in the other man's direction. Mitch gaped as she leapt into his arms and kissed him.

"What's the matter, rookie?" Betsy had made her way to Mitch. "Don't tell me you were trying to pick her up?"

He kept glaring in Boone's direction, until he heard the corporal next to him laugh. "You dumbass, that's the Courier."

"Oh."

*.*.*

"Then she tells me I'm not mature enough for her."

"She's right."

"I'm p-p-p-p-plenty mature!" Spades cried as he threw the baseball back to Bitter-Root. The other man caught it and threw it back.

"Were you planning on telling her now or later about your pet iguana?"

"Pet iguana?" Layla asked as she walked up on the two. They were standing just outside the group of abandoned houses the squad had commandeered.

"Dearly departed pet iguana," Bitter-Root corrected, then threw one of his extra baseball gloves to her.

"Oh, I'm not going to like this story, am I?" the Courier said as she put the glove on.

"I found one when we were staking out this abandoned farm," Spades said, sounding dejected. "I kept him for a while, but..."

"But apparently live animals and raiders don't mix," Bitter-Root interjected as all three started throwing the ball to each other.

"Oh, poor iguana," Layla said, frowning at Spades as she threw the ball to him. "Did you bury him?"

"Wasn't much left to bury," Bitter-Root grumbled, "but yeah, we did. Now that Spades got his 'promotion' apparently we have to listen to what he says."

Layla grinned. '10 of Spades' had been upgraded to 'Jack of Spades' after the Dam battle. And with new team members, he wasn't the bottom of the ladder anymore.

"So…" Layla said, "how are things going with the new guy?"

"He's okay," Spades said.

"He's an idiot," Bitter-Root grumbled.

"How's he getting along with Boone?" she asked.

"Sniping teams are funny," Bitter-Root answered. "Sometimes you hit it off right away, sometimes it takes getting used to. I couldn't stand Sterling when we first got paired up."

"What?" Layla gaped. "Why?"

"Bitter-Root's just a mis-s-s-s-serable ass," Spades said, throwing the ball particularly hard. Bitter-Root caught it and threw it back, just as hard.

"You're just oversensitive," he said. "Anyway, I think Mitch was the big man of his last unit."

"What makes you think that?" Layla asked, waiting for one of them to throw to her again. They were starting to whip the ball faster and faster at each other.

"Two things," Bitter-Root said. "One: he thinks his shit doesn't stink. And two: he thinks he can get out of hazing."

"Oh boy," the Courier groaned. "Is this some kind of testosterone-based man foolishness?"

"It's team building," the ex-Khan answered. "Everyone went through it. You join a unit, you get hazed for a while."

Now she was grinning. "Did you pull anything on Boone when he came back?"

"We tried," Spades answered as he caught another hard throw. He took off his glove and shook his hand with a grimace. Putting the glove back on, he threw it back to Bitter-Root hard enough to make a sickly thud noise when it impacted his glove. "It didn't go well."

"What happened?"

"We put Wonderglue all over the handle of a screwdriver and gave it to him. Only he grabbed it by the head and slapped it on my chest armor," Bitter-Root grumbled. "It was stuck on there for days until we found some solvent."

Now Layla was laughing, "I guess hazing has its dangers, huh?"

"That's not the point. Oh _fuck_!"

*.*.*

Further up the road, the rest of 1st Recon were all sitting around a fire pit. Gorobets took off his beret and scratched his head, wondering when Mitch would be back with the beers they'd sent him off to get. Putting his hat back on, he looked at the others.

"You guys all understand what's going to happen with this plan, right?"

"What's to understand?" Betsy said as she started tapping another cigarette out of her pack. "We go in, shoot any Powder Gangers that come around and rile up the locals. Meanwhile Layla watches the people watching us and convinces them to let her join their jackass club."

"That's the simple version," the lieutenant said. "But don't forget we have to-"

"Incoming," Boone said suddenly. "West."

Gorobets turned in time to see Betsy stand and deflect the oncoming projectile with a piece of wood she'd grabbed. The baseball landed in the bucket they'd deposited their empty beers in, breaking the bottles. All four snipers looked back down the road to find Spades, Bitter-Root and Layla looking their way.

"… Little help?" the Courier called. Sterling fished the ball out and handed it to Betsy. She whipped it down the road at the other group, scattering them.

They started chasing each other, and soon came running toward the others at the fire pit. Layla ran around the chairs surrounding the pit, then leapt over the nearby fence while the other two kept chasing her.

"Boone! I could use some help!" she cried. The man let out a sigh and stood, then made his way over. He reached them just as Bitter-Root and Spades had caught up to Layla.

"Get him!" The Courier cried, then she, Bitter-Root and Spades all turned and jumped on Boone, trying to tackle him. They got him down to one knee before he knocked Bitter-Root off his back. Spades seemed to give up on the plan once Boone broke their initial hold, backing away from him.

Boone got back on his feet and grabbed Layla, throwing her over his shoulder. The Courier squealed and pounded on his back as he carried her away from the other two.

"Diplomatic incident!" she cried as Boone made his way toward the fire pit. "I'm petitioning to have you banished from New Vegas!"

"Don't care," came the man's reply. He stopped just short of the circle of chairs. "Turning in for the night, sir."

Gorobets waved him off, and Boone headed for the house he and Layla had claimed for the weekend.

"Order him to stop or I'll see to it you're scrubbing latrines in the Hub for the rest of your days!" Layla said, shaking her fist at Gorobets.

"I've been threatened with worse," the lieutenant answered, and Layla shook her fist harder at him before she was carried off.

*.*.*

Life was good, Layla determined as she lay in bed in the wee hours of the morning. Boone was asleep in her arms, his head resting on her chest. The Courier gently stroked his head, fingers tickled by his budding hair as she traced his horrific tan line.

Boone's reenlistment hadn't been as bad as she'd feared. She knew it was good for him; even at his most guilt-ridden and confused, he'd always spoken with pride about his old unit. He'd barely finished filling out the paperwork to reenlist before he was transferred back to 1st Recon. Layla had to assume that had something to do with being the guy who killed Caesar. She did have to admit she missed having him around all the time. They'd been 'fused at the hip,' as Cass had put it, for nearly a year. The sudden time apart wasn't something they'd had to deal with before.

It wasn't so bad though; since she'd started getting more involved with politics and ranger missions, she'd had plenty to do while he was away. And Crocker would occasionally tell her where 1st Recon was stationed, and she'd go visit.

As good as it was, situations like this morning didn't come as often as she'd like. But for now, the sun was just about to rise, the world was cool and quiet and the man she loved was secure in her arms.

Layla bit her lip; she had just thought that, hadn't she? Oh who was she kidding? She'd been in love with Boone for months. The Courier had only recently let herself admit it. It was much easier to do so now that they were together.

Boone murmured in his sleep. Layla wondered how he felt about her. He cared for her, there wasn't any doubt to that. But she knew he'd always love his wife. It wasn't something she wanted to change, but it made her wonder if he'd be able to find room in his heart for two.

She sighed; why exactly was she ruining a perfect morning by worrying about this? Things were good now. No need to make it complicated. She'd have to get up eventually, so she enjoyed the remaining time she had basking in the warm, fuzzy feelings she got looking at Boone's sleeping form.

*.*.*

Boone awoke to find Layla gone from the bed. Sitting up, he caught sight of a note tucked in his beret on the nightstand.

'_Good morning!_

_Went out for a walk. When you're up, come and find me and we'll get breakfast at the Prospector._

_-L'_

Setting the note down, Boone went about getting himself ready for the day. A few minutes later he emerged from the old, rickety building and went in search of the Courier.

It didn't take long to find her; he spotted her at a house near the doctor's, talking to a securitron. Frowning, Boone made his way over. Securitrons didn't usually come out this far unless they were looking for or sent by Layla. If it had been sent to find her, there was probably trouble at the Strip.

Once he got closer, he noticed something was wrong with the robot; it's screen was dark. There was no face on the monitor. The body didn't seem to be moving either. Boone had never seen one of the robots deactivated and still upright.

Layla had noticed him by now and hastily wiped her face with her sleeve. Boone frowned; he could tell she'd been crying.

"What is it?" he asked. She seemed to wrestle with something, then sighed.

"This is Victor," she said, gesturing toward the blank robot. Boone gave her a confused look. "This was his normal body," she continued, reaching up and pointing out a few scratches on the robot's frame.

"He got those when he shot a couple Powder Gangers off me," she said. "I'm pretty sure he followed me all the way to Primm to make sure I got there okay. He could jump from securitorn body to body, but this one was his."

She indicated the small house behind them. "This was his place…" she sniffled, then bit her lip. "He let me stay here after he and Doc Mitchell saved me. I could have stayed in one of the abandoned houses… b-but I didn't want to be alone."

She'd started weeping now, and Boone moved up to wrap his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed for a few moments. He rubbed her back until she started to calm.

Boone saw Gorobets and Sterling further down the road, looking their way. He could make out the questioning look on the lieutenant's face and shook his head. The two snipers looked at each other, then moved on, toward the bar.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Layla said a moment later, looking up at him. "I just… I haven't been here since… everything happened."

"It's okay," Boone said, giving her a squeeze. She gave him a trembling smile.

"No, it isn't, but I'll be okay." She looked at the robot again. "I'm gonna ask Trudy not to let anyone mess with him… if she can help it." Boone nodded, then let her go as she took a step back.

"Let's go get something to eat."

*.*.*

"Morning," said Sterling as Layla and Boone walked into the saloon. 1st Recon was crammed into the big booth in the corner, already eating.

"We've got a present for you," Gorobets said. "Just got delivered."

Layla accepted a plain-looking brown box and set it on the table.

"I'm gonna guess this is from Merritt and you boys didn't import me a huge box of candies from California?"

"How much money do you think we make?" Gorobets asked incredulously. "And why do you think I'd risk my wife's wrath by getting you candy and not her?"

Layla responded by giving the lieutenant her best, thickest laid on, raiders-are-about-to-kill-me-and-this-is-the-only-angle-that-will-save-me sad face, full chin tremble. The man's jaw dropped.

"Stop it!" he cried. "Christ!" Layla gave a convincing sniffle.

"I don't want to make your wife upset," she said pitifully. "You're like family to me."

"Stop! I'll get you a whole crate of candy!" the man cried, and the Courier grinned. Pulling her combat knife out of her armor, she cut the box open.

"I only use my powers for good," she said as she pulled a letter out of the package. "That was a demonstration. You'd better not ever go buying me expensive presents you could be lavishing on your wife." She pointed the knife at the man.

"That can't be fair to Boone," Bitter-Root said, looking up from his breakfast. "How do you argue against that?"

"Oh please," Layla scoffed. "I never have to put it on that thick to get my way with him."

She knew she was going to get it for that one later, but for now she opened the envelope to find a note from Merritt.

'_Miss Granville,_

_Enclosed is your disguise. Be sure you've got it on before you leave for your objective, but remember to cover the most noticeable feature of it while you travel. The enclosed headwrap should take care of that. It would be advisable not to allow 1st Recon to see the disguise early._

_You will be contacted with further instructions while in town._

_Merritt_

_P.S. There may be some use in allowing at least one member of 1st Recon to see the disguise.'_

Smiling, Layla started shuffling through the contents of the package, careful not to let anything be seen by the others at the table. Once she'd gone though the items, she frowned.

"Is this really it?" she asked Gorobets, who grinned.

"Merritt said you might be a little worried about it, but remember you're not supposed to look like yourself."

Layla let out a low whistle. "Well, this ought to do it." She closed the box and sat at the adjoining booth. Just as Boone sat next to her, she saw a group of prospectors pass by.

"NCR fucks crowding the place," she heard one man say. He stopped at Layla and Boone's booth and glared daggers at the Courier. "And it's all _your_ fault! Now the whole fucking Mojave's gonna get the same fucking they gave the Hub and Dayglow!"

Layla bit her lip, stunned.

"If it hadn't been for her, the Legion would have already flattened this place," Gorobets said stiffly. "So if you're don't have anything nice to say to the lady who saved you from a cross, get lost."

"You gonna make me?" the man spat. His sneer lessened somewhat as Bitter-Root and Betsy stood. His companions seemed to notice what was going on and rejoined him.

Sterling sighed as he set down his drink and stood as well, cracking his knuckles. Gorobets, Jack of Spades and Boone were out of their seats by now. Looking over to Mitch, Layla saw him shrug and get up as well.

"All right, cut it out or I'm throwing you all out," Trudy yelled from the bar. The prospector looked back at her, then sneered at 1st Recon.

"Let's go," he said to his group. "These NCR fucks aren't worth our time." He and his group turned and left while 1st Recon kept glaring at them. Once they were gone, the snipers all went back to their seats.

"You okay?" Boone asked Layla as he sat next to her.

"Yeah…" she frowned. "You guys didn't have to start a brawl over it."

"Sure we did," Betsy said. "They were harping on our girl."

"You keep talking like that and people are going to think I'm the unit's hooker," Layla retorted, making the other woman laugh.

"What are you rates? I've got an hour to kill," she said, earning a glare from Boone.

"You couldn't afford me," Layla answered, then looked up. "Oh, there goes the neighborhood."

The rest of 1st Recon all whipped their heads around, still ready for a fight. Instead, Veronica stepped into the saloon.

"Super secret spy Veronica, reporting for duty!" the scribe called when she spotted Layla.

"You'll be a much more convincing spy if you stop yelling about it," Layla grumbled. The other girl shrugged as she sat across from the Courier.

"What's she doing here?" Boone asked, immediately getting a glower from the scribe.

"Nice to see you too," she said. Layla looked around to make sure no one was in snooping distance before explaining.

"Veronica's my double. On Sunday, I'll sneak out of town and head to Sloan. Meanwhile, Veronica will put on my stuff, take ED-E and go back to the Strip. Then 'Layla Granville' will be unavailable for a few weeks due to some form of unpleasant medical issue, which will be confirmed by my personal physician," Layla said, leaning back in her chair.

"Sounds glamorous," Veronica said. "Are the diplomats gonna go for that?"

"Crocker will help on that account, the Courier explained. "He knows about the mission. He'll smooth over any doubts on that end. And if anything comes up that I should be worried about, he's got a knack for delaying things."

Gorobets snorted. "Wasting time is the first thing they teach politicians."

"True," Layla said. "That and the handshake. The great thing is, I'll be on the giving end of the anti-NCR abuse," Layla said, grinning. "It's gonna be too easy calling you guys a pack of military goons."

"Ungrateful civilians," Bitter-Root muttered from the other booth.

*.*.*

The weekend had passed too quickly, Layla thought as she dragged herself to the bathroom in her temporary house. They always did, but at least this time she had a very exciting week ahead.

She'd be heading out soon, after she applied her disguise. Opening the box, she shook her head again at the contents. A few minutes into applying the dye, she heard a knock on the door.

"How's it going?" she heard Boone call through the door.

"Oh, just fine," she sighed at the outfit once more.

"What's wrong?" he asked, probably picking up on her distaste.

"Nothing… Well, I'm not sure you're going to like this getup either."

There was silence for a moment. "Are you sure about this? The mission?"

"I am," Layla replied firmly as she started changing. "I'll be fine once I get used to everything. That's what the walk into town's for. You know me, I can talk my way into anything."

"Remember that time with Nero and Big Sal…?"

"There'll be Powder Gangers everywhere, so I'm sure someone will throw dynamite at some point," Layla retorted as she reluctantly removed her Pip-Boy. She'd made Veronica swear on her parents' graves that she wouldn't snoop around her files.

Layla had been worried about tan lines on her forearm, but none were noticeable; she'd been wearing sleeves a lot lately. Setting down the machine, she looked at herself in the mirror and nodded. She opened the bathroom door and stepped out to find Boone waiting for her.

"Well?" she said as he looked her over. "What do you think?"

He gave her a strange look for a moment, then shrugged.

"Doesn't look like you."

"Well, that is the point."

"The clothes are nice."

Layla shook her head at that; she'd figured as much. She began gathering her things.

"Well, I'm off," she said. Boone moved up and wrapped his arms around her.

"Be careful," he said quietly.

"I will," Layla answered. "You be careful too. You're the bait, remember."

Boone snorted in response, then kissed her. She smiled into his lips and thought for a moment about delaying her departure for another hour. Eventually, practicality won out, and she parted from him.

"I'll see you in a week," she said with a wink, then left the house to sneak out of town.

* * *

><p>A gigantic thank you to my editor this week (and all weeks!), he's been editing like crazy lately. And thank you for reading. And double-thank you if you leave a review, favorite or alert! See you on Saturday!<p> 


	3. Raising the Bristles

New Sloan was like something out of an old western movie. Well, Jackie assumed it was; she'd never seen one. She'd heard of them though. There were dusty but well-made buildings along the main street, including a jail, town hall and saloon, all new. Further down the road was the only clothing store in the Mojave. From what Jackie had heard, it was there just because Mayor Williams' wife, Joanne, had demanded it.

Whatever the reason, its suited Jackie just fine. She'd fallen in love with a blue gown that had been shipped from California, which she went to gawk at regularly. If she kept saving her pay, she might be able to afford it, even if she had nowhere to go in it. The woman sighed; even if she only wore it in her rented room in the saloon, it'd be worth it.

Her musing was distracted by the sudden swearing of her boss, who was looking out the front door of the general store.

"Jackie, come take a look at this. This place is going to fucking hell quicker than a baby-eating whore!"

Moving to the door, Jackie looked past Herschel Smith, owner of Smith's Goods.

"What's wrong, Smithy?" she asked as she looked, then spotted the issue: a group of NCR soldiers were walking into town.

"Oh that's fucking great," she growled, moving past Smithy and walking out the door.

"Where are you going?" her boss grumbled.

"Find something to throw at them," she called back. That got the aging man to laugh.

"Don't get arrested while you should be working for me," he said, still laughing. "Or at least make it worth it."

Jackie leaned against one of the porch's postsand fixed a glare at the soldiers as they walked by. There were seven of them, all men except for one pissed-off looking woman. Each one seemed to be cataloging the town as they went through, taking in the buildings and people around them.

The woman noticed one of them glance in her direction. His gaze lingered for a moment before turning away. She tried to not be too obvious as she stared back. The soldier, a muscular guy with a shaved head, filled out his survival armor very nicely. It looked like he'd been born to wear it. Good God, she hoped she'd be able to get Boone out of that armor sometime while they were here, but it was very unlikely.

_Focus, you idiot, _her brain said irritatedly. _You're 'Jackie,' remember?_

"Quiet," Layla murmured back. "Are you trying to blow our cover?"

'Jackie' looked back, fixing a slight sneer on her face as the soldiers moved past her and on toward Old Sloan. She had to congratulate herself; she'd handled 1st Recon's arrival well. Her daydreaming about uniformless Boone hadn't even progressed to a mental image.

Turning, she went back into the General Store to find Sheriff Emilio Juarez and Hank Kreeder, the quarry's mechanic, standing at the counter with Smithy.

"…End of times, you mark my words," the old shopkeeper was saying. "Next thing you know, there'll be ghouls and those damn Followers running around here."

"Don't get hot under the collar, Smithy," Sheriff Juarez said. "They're only here to get rid of the Powder Gangers."

"A problem those NCR bastards started in the first place!" the old man said. "We ought to round up the whole town and run them out."

"We're not doing that," Juarez said, sounding stern. "They're here with Mayor Williams' approval."

"We ought to run him out too," Smithy grumbled. "He's just as bad, came from the west too."

"You do anything like that and they'll send the whole army after us," Kreeder said in a calm voice. "Just be patient, they'll leave."

"Ha," Smith snorted. "This is the beginning, just you wait. First it's soldiers patrolling the town for our 'safety,' next it's martial law. Then you'll all wish you'd listened to me." He shook his head, then turned on Kreeder. "Don't you even care?"

"As long as they leave me alone, no," the mechanic said. "I mind my own business."

"That won't matter to them, they'll butt right in to your business anyhow. Pack of Godless troublemakers," Smithy grumbled.

"The assholes are probably here to spy on us," Jackie said peeking out the window to see if she could see them anymore.

"Not you too, Jackie," Juarez sighed. "You've been hanging around Smithy too long."

"Well he's right," she said as she turned, "Now that they're here, you think they'd leave if we asked them to? Next thing you know they'll be demanding taxes out of us." Layla had to tamp down on the part of her mind reminding her that she was the person who'd fight tooth and nail to make sure that very thing didn't happen.

Looking back out the window, she saw a pack of young boys on the road. She noted Mayor Williams' youngest son, Troy among them. The boy was the ringleader, and a little bastard in both 'Jackie' and Layla's personal opinions.

The boys had a box of something and were trying to stealthily dump its contents into the outhouse near the jail.

"Looks like Troy's putting mini-scorpions in your crapper, Juarez," she said.

That brought the sheriff over. He looked out the window and grimaced.

"God damned boys." Moving back to the counter to retrieve his hat and rushed out the door. Layla watched the boys scatter as the sheriff approached. Once they'd disappeared, 'Jackie' went back to the counter.

"What do I owe you?" Kreeder asked Smithy as she got back.

"Twenty caps," he replied. The mechanic handed the money over and gathered his items together.

"Well, I'm off. Try not to get your blood pressure up too high," Kreeder said to Smithy. "Jackie," he said in the girl's direction. Layla nodded to him as he left.

"Oh, Jackie," Smithy said as she got back behind the counter, "I need to go to Goodsprings tomorrow morning. Can you watch the store?"

Layla managed to catch herself from making a face. "Sure."

"Good girl," the man said. "I know you don't like the mornings. I'll leave you something to do while it's slow."

Layla merely nodded, even though she'd rather just read from the small selection of books the store had to offer. The Courier hadn't had to save her caps in a long time. Now she was forced to choose between a dress and a pile of books. Her two vices.

The bell on the door tinkled as it opened, and Layla turned to see Joanne Williams, the Mayor's wife, walk in. She was a tall, slim woman with auburn hair and a pretty face that was usually marred by a sneer. At least whenever Jackie was around.

"Need something?" Smith said as he grinned a the woman. Layla bit back a sigh; she knew where this was going.

"I have a list…" Mrs. Williams said, holding up a piece of paper.

"Jackie will be happy to get what you need," Smithy said, nudging the girl. Swallowing any untoward comments that were dancing on her tongue, Jackie went to take the list from the Mayor's wife.

"Don't be afraid to ask if it's too confusing, my dear." Joanne asked, her tone somewhere between mocking and pity. Layla bit the inside of her cheek; the woman had been laboring under the idea that she was barely literate.

"Yes, Ma'am," she answered, grabbing the paper out of the woman's hand. Going about the store to gather the items listed, she made a point to grab the most dented or bruised things she could find. Layla might have been concerned that the woman's innocent family would suffer for this, but Jackie didn't give a shit. She moved quietly to make sure she could hear what Smithy and Mrs. Williams were saying.

"So, you hear about the NCR goons set up outside of town?" the old shopkeeper asked.

"I don't concern myself with politics," the Mayor's wife said stiffly. "But there is something to be said about handsome young men in uniforms."

Layla grit her teeth as she found the dustiest box of Sugar Bombs on the shelf, completing the list. She moved back for the counter with the items in her arms.

"That's not my department," Smithy snorted. "You'll have to talk to Jackie about that."

"They look like a standard pack of pig-headed soldiers to me," Jackie spat out. Williams clicked her tongue at that.

"My dear, you'll find yourself alone and loveless if you let politics influence your choices in men," the older woman said as Smithy put her items in the cloth sack she'd brought. "And as your looks continue to fade, wearing outfits like that isn't going to help."

Layla caught herself chewing the inside of her cheek until it hurt. The woman did have a point on her getup though, but she couldn't admit that. She had to stop herself from pulling the skirt lower.

"We should at least be civil to these soldiers while they're in town. I'll have to invite them up to the house one day," Williams said as she paid for her groceries. "Until next time." She accepted her bag from Smithy and left. Once the door was closed, the shopkeep shook his head.

"The woman's a looker, but an idiot."

"No argument here," Jackie answered.

Smithy laughed. "Go on and get for the night. I'll close up."

"Really? Thanks!" She was grinning now; she usually stayed until the store closed at sunset.

"Just don't forget you're opening in the morning," he said, stealing the grin off the Courier's face.

"Yeah yeah." She grabbed her bag from behind the counter and slung it over her shoulder, then walked to the register and gave Smithy an expecting look.

"Hold on," the man grumbled. "How long were you here?"

"Five hours," Jackie answered. The shopkeeper wrote it down on his notepad, then opened the register.

"Here you go; honest pay for honest work." He handed her 25 caps. Jackie sighed as she counted out five.

"And here you go back," she said. "I'm taking a pear on the way out." The man laughed.

"Put your money away and take a damn pear."

"Smithy, you keep doing that and I'm gonna get used to it," Jackie said with a grin.

"Well, you keep shaking your can in front of those quarry workers and you'll have earned it," the old man replied. Layla had to stop herself from getting offended. Jackie gave him a grin.

"That's what the goods are for," she said, pocketing the caps and grabbing her pear. "See you tomorrow."

The sun was just starting to lower in the sky as she reached the road. As she walked, she started planning what to do with her pay. That might not have been a Jackie thing to do, but Layla couldn't help herself.

Fourteen to Wilber, five to dinner, that leaves six toward the dress. Or books. She's thought about eating her pear now, but she decided to save it for breakfast.

Walking past the jail and the town hall, she made for the saloon. From her spot on the road, she could see the Mayor's house, the biggest building in town. Mrs. Williams was just getting to the door.

Layla sneered in the woman's direction. She was fairly insufferable, considering anything or anyone that wasn't from California to be worthless. But she also liked to use her looks to get the men of the town to fawn over her. Shaking her head, Layla walked up the stairs to the porch of the saloon.

"Hello Jackie," Lansing, one of the quarry workers said, giving her a sly grin. "Off work early?"

"What gave it away," Jackie fired back. While most of the townspeople were nice enough, the quarry workers seemed to be a little more rough around the edges. Lansing never let an opportunity to flirt with her pass him by. He was a gangly man with an almost-handsome face. If he wasn't such an ass, Jackie might have responded to his flirting a little.

"Let me guess, you left work early because of an injury?"

The man held up a bandaged hand. "Don't worry baby, all my good parts are ready for you**."**

Layla wanted to slap him. Jackie gave him a wry look. "Now why would I want a clumsy fuck like you?" The man's grin fell. He tried to come up with a rebuttal, but Layla walked into the Saloon before he got the chance.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Layla looked around. The room was mostly empty, except for Wilber, the bartender and owner. It was early yet; barely anyone would be off work. Even the town's two hookers, Darla and Surly Li, weren't milling around yet. Layla moved over to sit at the bar, and the stout man turned to her.

"Off early, Miss Jackie?" Wilber asked, and she nodded.

"Me and Lansing, I guess."

"Mmm, he's waiting for Pudd to bring his wallet," the bartender said. "Once he heard I wouldn't serve him until I saw caps, he decided to wait outside. I'm surprised he didn't try to hit you up."

"He'd be barking up the wrong tree with that." Jackie laughed, then pulled out her sack of caps. "On that subject, here's this week's rent."

"A renter who actually pays me, very good," Wilber said as he deposited the caps in the register.

"You mean I could be putting that money toward more worth-while endeavors?"

"No, I like getting paid. I don't aim to have you stop too." He gave her a smile. "Especially if you're just planning on throwing away your hard-earned money on a dress."

"How did you know?"

"I hear how often you're over at Tanner's," the bartender said.

"Ah." Layla had decided early on that Wilbur could be a liability. He heard all the gossip in town and was incredibly observant. She had to be careful with him.

"Will you be eating dinner here?" the bartender asked. Jackie nodded and counted out five extra caps.

"You are making soup… right?" she said just as she was about to hand over the money. Soup was the only thing the bartender made himself. Everything else the saloon served was made by Jas. Layla was not eating cannibal food.

_You eat at the Ultra Luxe fairly often with no complaint,_ her brain reminded her, and she stopped herself from answering.

"Sure am," Wilber answered, and she handed him the caps.

"I'll be back for it later," she said and stood from the bar, heading for her room. She'd wanted a room on the second floor, but had decided to go for the first floor eventually. Now that 1st Recon was in town, she'd probably have to sneak out on occasion, something much easier to do from the ground floor.

Unlocking her door, Layla barely let the door close before she flopped on her bed with a groan of pleasure. Tending a store while pretending to be someone she wasn't was very tiring. Eventually, she got off the bed and felt around the floorboards near the window. Finding the board she'd loosened, she pried it up and pulled out a bag. The only thing in the sack was her small pile of caps and a few grenades. Emergency grenades.

She dumped the remaining six caps of her pay into the bag, then replaced it and the board. Standing, she opened her window and reached out to grab one of the cans she'd hung off her windowsill. Now that the monsoon had rolled in, free water was a easy as hanging a container outside to collect the rain. Pulling off the thin cloth she used as a filter, she drank down the can's contents.

Replacing the can, she turned back toward her bed, then frowned when she noticed something out of place. One of the drawers on her dresser was open. She never left drawers open. Looking inside, Layla found a folded paper on top of her underwear.

Opening it, she found it was a hand-written note.

'_New info. After dark.'_

Layla recognized Boone's careful handwriting and smiled. Looks like she had a date tonight.

*.*.*

'Old' Sloan's rickety setup hadn't changed since Boone had been there last. The Mayor might have allowed them to use the original buildings as a base, but he hadn't bothered to mention they were a mess.

The buildings had been abandoned when the new town was built. And while no one was living in them, they were clearly still used. Once they'd discovered the pile of used condoms in the bunkhouse, Gorobets had ordered a thorough cleaning.

Boone had just finished helping move the pool table into the main room of the office. They were using the building as a command center, and the second floor was completely taken up by the surveillance post. The main floor was split into two rooms, the open area with the stairs that led up, and the room they'd moved the pool table out of. They'd moved one of the bunks in, making a 'nap room' for whichever team was stuck on the nightshift for the wiretap. Three other buildings in Sloan were also cleaned and prepped for their use.

Merritt had helped with the work, mainly setting up the equipment in the office. Boone had asked Gorobets about him; 1st Recon had worked with the ranger in the past. The lieutenant vouched for him and his plans, which usually went off without much trouble. Clearly the ranger didn't know what happened when Layla was involved.

Merritt seemed okay, but the other ranger he'd brought along had been getting on Boone's nerves. Before he could dwell further on it, there was a knock at the door. Looking up, he saw Gorobets answer, sidearm already in hand. The lieutenant started laughing loudly when he opened the door.

"Oh shut up," Layla said as she walked in. She was in the outfit Boone had last seen her in; a tight, blue shirt with a belted miniskirt and ragged fishnet stockings. The shirt was missing the top few buttons, which had exposed her drab blue bra, though it had been replaced since then with a bright red one.

That alone made her look different, but the more obvious change was her hair, which she'd cut just above her shoulders and dyed a violent red. Boone didn't mind the outfit, but he missed her longer brown hair.

"You look like a hooker," Bitter-Root said, and the Courier punched him in the arm.

"Shut up shut up shut up, I know!" she cried, then moved to hide behind Boone.

"Oh, the quarry workers, you should hear what they say," Layla moaned into his back. That made him turn. She was giving him a mischievous look.

"Of course I only encourage them; that's what 'Jackie' would do," she continued. Now Boone was frowning. If she took that too far, one of them might take it as an invitation-

"Quit worrying," Layla said, hands going to her hips. "You're making that face."

"Boone doesn't worry," Betsy said. "He's either angry or angrier."

"Maybe to you schulbs," Layla started. "Quite frankly, I don't blame h- What the hell is this?" she cried as she noticed the break area. There were several carefully arranged stacks of snack cakes next to a huge coffee urn.

"I forgot, you've never been around for a stakeout," Gorobets said, gesturing to the mountain of junk food. "This is 1st Recon Alpha's standard-issue cake supply."

The Courier gave him a strange look, then spun in Boone's direction. "So that's why you get so happy when I've got snack cakes."

Boone shrugged. It was true he'd developed a taste for the things during his time in the unit.

"Where did they come from?" she asked. "I've never even seen this many cakes in one place in my whole life."

"We have a few different sources," Gorobets said evasively. That made Layla look his way.

"Secrets huh? We'll see about that."

"Is that Miss Granville I hear?" Merritt called from the upper floor of the building.

"Hey Merritt!" Layla called back, "When are you gonna start calling my Layla?"

"I should be calling you 'Jackie.' I don't want to break your stride," the ranger said as he walked down the stairs. "I hear you've been very productive."

"I try," the Courier said with a grin.

"You've already gotten a job at the busiest store in town , that's excellent thinking. Have you been able to learn much?"

"Not a whole lot yet," Layla admitted. "I didn't want to push too much. Let's see: the sheriff's thinking about shaving off his mustache. Surly Li might be knocked up. And the Mayor's wife is having an affair… with more than one person."

"Well, that's… something," Merritt said. "Any progress with Darren Williams?"

"I'm afraid not," Layla shrugged. "He's been in the store a few times, but he didn't want to talk much. The anti-NCR thing hasn't been that easy to bring up naturally… but now that you guys are here, it should be a lot easier."

"Excellent," the ranger said. "Now, we've got something for you. Right this way." Smiling, Layla followed his lead up the stairs. Boone trailed behind them, wondering how the Courier would react to her new equipment.

"First," Merritt said as they walked into the room upstairs, "Layla, this is Ranger Albert Morton."

The sour-faced, balding ranger glanced up from his computer. He looked the Courier over, then turned his attention to Merritt.

"This is the girl?" He went back to his computer. "Very professional looking."

"Nice to meet-" she started, but was cut off by the ranger.

"Let's not confuse politeness with professionalism. You and I aren't going to like each other because we work very differently. I'm given orders and follow them out as quickly as possible and to the best of my ability. You wander around with a Messiah complex and benefit from the Mojave's apparent lack of prudence in choosing a champion."

Layla's mouth was still hanging open. Boone was fairly certain he was going to flatten this idiot before the mission was over. Just as he was about to say something, Merritt spoke.

"Albert is a terrorism specialist," the ranger said, glossing over Morton's insult. "He's also set you up with a wiretap."

"Wiretap?" Layla perked up. "Let me see."

Morton sighed and held up a small microphone on a wire that led to a box the size of a mentats container. As she reached for it, the ranger held it back.

"This is very expensive, hard-to-replace equipment. If you break it or lose it, we will be unable to replace it for some time."

"I understand," Layla said, and the ranger handed her the device.

"Have it on whenever you're out of your room," Merritt said. "If you hide the box in one of your pouches, you should be able to thread the wire up to your collar. It is imperative that no one detects it."

The Courier nodded as she looked the device over. She then looked around the room at the equipment.

"You'll be recording everything, then?"

"Yes," Morton said. "Everything you say. It should pick up anyone within ten feet of you as well."

"We'll be monitoring as well," Merritt added. "Even at night when it's not on. In case of an emergency, call and someone will hear you."

Layla nodded and tucked the device into one of the pouches on her belt.

"Good," Merritt said with a nod. "Now, the Mayor's got a function coming up I'd like you to try to get invited to."

"Oh?" Layla looked up. "What is it?"

"From what I've gathered, he's inviting investors from California. Probably trying to get people to fund more towns like his or possibly extend what's already there. This party will be at his home."

"Why do you want me there?" Layla asked. "I doubt there'll be many terrorists around there."

"Well, the Mayor's son should be there, and some of the prominent people in town will be in attendance as well. Beyond that, the NCR would be interested in what he's up to."

Layla nodded. "I'll try my best, but that might be a tall order."

Merritt smiled. "I know it's a long shot, but see what you can do. One final issue for now… You've done a good job with your disguise, but could you please give up your 1st Recon beret? If you get caught with it, I'm afraid there'll be some uncomfortable questions."

"How did you know?" Layla cried as she reached into one of her pouches. Inside was the beret Boone had given her. Her lucky charm.

Merritt merely smiled at her, and she frowned, handing it to Boone. "Fine, but this is going to screw up my luck, and I won't be held responsible for the consequences," Layla grumbled, then sighed. "I guess I'd better head out," she said, sounding a little reluctant.

"That's probably wise," Merritt said. "Remember to make sure the tap is hidden, keep working on Darren Williams, and we'll send word of any updates."

"Got it," Layla said. "See you all in town." She waved to the others in the room, but latched onto Boone's wrist as she headed for the stairs, leading him to the main floor. As she got to the door, she turned and leaned against it.

"Good night," she said with a smile.

"Good night," he answered. "Be careful."

"I'm always careful," she said with a grin. Her smile immediately disappeared as his face hardened.

"Okay, okay, I'll be very careful." She leaned in and kissed him. "See you around town."

She stepped away and turned back for the door. Opening it, she winked at him before disappearing into the night. He stared after her for a moment.

"Oh sweety-pie," Betsy called from behind him, "I wuv you so much." She then proceeded to make smooching noises while Bitter-Root, Mitch and Spades laughed. Boone made his way to the pool table and started searching for the balls.

"Least I'm getting laid."

That took the smiles off the others' faces.


	4. Up in a Dander

Ha ha, oh Yummadeedoo, I'm still laughing about the word baby thing.

* * *

><p>Ranger Albert Morton walked up the stairs to the surveillance room, frown already in place. The mission was going slower than it was supposed to, but that was usually the case when it came to ops that included civilians.<p>

Rangers hired civilians all the time for undercover work, and given the nature of his specialization, he worked with moles often. But this Courier was going to be trouble, he knew it. If not for her lack of experience and training, then at least for her relationships in the team. Specialist Boone was usually the most professional of 1st Recon, aside from Sterling, but even he seemed to lose his sense in the girl's big brown eyes. All of 1St Recon lost their composure when she showed up. Gorobets was the worst, acting like a doting uncle.

Even Merritt seemed to be under her spell, ignoring the things the Courier screwed up, claiming she was 'gifted' at subterfuge. The others might be swayed, but Morton remained vigilant; this mission wasn't going to end well, and that girl was going to be the cause.

As he walked into the room, Merritt waved, raising his coffee cup to his face. All of 1st Recon were gathered in the room, except for Sterling and Bitter-Root, who had the night shift monitoring the wiretap. The newest member of 1st Recon, Mitch, was at the wiretap's relay, headphones on and monitoring the feed. He groaned loudly as Albert headed for his desk.

"How many times is she going to sing that damn song?" he said testily, then pulled the plug out of the recorder. The room was filled with the Courier's voice.

"This ol' house ain't a home, when there's nooooooo love in it. We could have wedded bliss, if we'd oooonly begin it." Her voice sounded purposefully off-key, grating and loud.

"Couldn't she at least get the words right?" Mitch groused.

"What's the use of buyin' a car, if you ain't got gasoline? We used to - Good morning, Juarez! - be two off the part, now we can't - Hey Chomp! Looking good! -get on the greeeen."

"She must miss her Pip-Boy radio," Merritt said good-naturedly. The Courier quieted as the sound of metal clinking together came over the feed. She'd be opening the general store about now.

"Hello, Jackie," a voice said.

"Oh, good morning, Darren." The Courier said, and most of the heads in the room turned toward the listening station.

"You're up early," the man said pleasantly.

"Smithy's got me watching the store while he's in Goodsprings."

"Ah, well I need to pick up a few things."

"Come on in then," the girl said as the door creaked open. "Take your time."

There was the sound of footsteps and the rustling of cloth for a few moments. Then a few light thuds and what was probably cans and boxes being moved.

"Are you liking New Sloan so far?" Darren's voice came back.

"Well, I liked it at first."

"'At first?'"

"Oh, those soldiers in town. I left Novac because they were coming around too often, and now they're here."

"They probably won't be in town too long," said Williams.

"I hope not," she said, then laughed. "I was thinking about contracting your little brother to give them some firecracker related trouble."

"I'd advise against it," Darren said. "Troy'll rat you out if he gets caught. And you probably don't want their attention.

"Pfft, what are they gonna do? Sic their shaved gorilla on me?"

Corporal Betsy laughed at that, punching Boone in the arm. He merely smirked; the Courier had come up with some colorful names to refer to the members of 1st Recon. That was Boone's.

"You'd be amazed how soldiers can make your life hell," Darren said, sounding somber. "Well, I'd better go. Just be careful. I don't want some prank to end up making things worse here."

"I'll be careful."

*.*.*

Layla looked at the clipboard in her hands with a sigh. That bastard Smithy had left her a job for the morning all right; take inventory. She'd get him for that later. The morning had been as dull as she feared. Darren had been her only visitor, and that was hours ago. The good thing was Smithy was due back soon. Then she'd get out of here.

The old coot would probably want her to stay for the evening shift too, but he could pound sand. Layla was going to have a nice, quiet afternoon. Later in the evening, she'd go around and schmooze with people, dig up secrets, try to find out who the Mayor's wife's sleeping around with, uncover terrorists, whatever.

Back to taking inventory for now. Going by what she'd found, she had a pretty good idea of what she'd be eating for most of the week.

"Gecko," she checked on her clipboard as she looked through the fridge.

"Gecko." Check.

"Gecko." Check.

"…Gecko…" Check.

The bell on the door jingled and she checked off the remaining six slabs of gecko meat. Hearing footsteps approach, she turned to find two men in Powder Ganger uniforms waiting at the counter.

*.*.*

Betsy took a long drag off her cigarette, then attempted to blow out the smoke in a ring. She still hadn't gotten the hang of it. She'd have to take over the surveillance shift with Spades soon, but for now she was lounging in the bunk house with the rest of 1st Recon.

"You've gotta push it with your tongue," Bitter-Root admonished from his bunk, referring to her failed attempts at the rings.

"I did," the corporal groused.

"Do it better," the man sat up. "How is it a lesbian doesn't know how to use her tongue?"

"I kept my tongue practice to fucking. From what I hear from your dates you should give up worrying about the smoke."

Betsy heard a snort from Sterling's direction. Glancing over, she saw Jack of Spades also grinning from behind his cards. The two men were playing Kaboom. Most of the unit had gone nuts for the game since Boone had introduced it.

Laying back on her cot, the corporal frowned. "Are we ever going to do anything here, Gorobets? The most action we've seen is Rookie striking out with the town's hookers."

Gorobets looked up from his book and opened his mouth to speak. Before he got a chance, Boone burst through the door.

"Layla's in trouble."

"What is it?" Gorobets said as he shot out of bed.

"Morton thinks it's Powder Gangers. They're at the General Store."

"Go relieve Mitch and send him over," the lieutenant said to Sterling and Bitter-Root as he grabbed his rifle. "Betsy and Spades, go to the western lookout. Boone, you and Mitch are with me."

*.*.*

"Okay, that's all the gecko I've got. And were you gonna take those Nukes too?" Layla said as she handed the sack full of meat to the man in front of her.

"Yeah," he said simply. "How much?"

"Fifty."

The Powder Ganger gave her a cross look.

"I'll throw in a pack of gum for each of you."

The man's hard look fizzled, and he pulled a bag of caps out of his pocket. Layla kept herself from smiling too much as he handed her the money.

Just as she was in the process of putting the caps in the cash register and silently congratulating herself on keeping a cool head, the door banged open.

"Hands in the air! You're under arrest!"

Sheriff Juarez and Deputy O'Bann burst into the building, guns drawn. The Powder Ganger who'd paid Layla reacted first, leaning over and grabbing her by the collar, then dragging her bodily over the counter and putting an arm around her neck before she could react. She was about to speak when he shoved a gun into her face.

"Put it down, or I'll blow her head off," the Ganger barked at Juarez.

Layla glared openly at the sheriff. If she lived through this, she'd have to thank him for his 'help.'

*.*.*

"Team two, are you in position?"

"Yes sir," Betsy said over the radio as Gorobets watched the road leading to the general store.

Boone and Mitch were just setting up on the train switching station just out of town. It gave the best view of the town, but was further away than team two's spot near the quarry. Gorobets watched as Mitch worked with Boone. The younger man had been taking well to his position as the team's spotter.

Boone had actually been the one who needed a little training on working with a teammate again. The lieutenant figured the man had gotten used to soloing while working with the Courier. Layla was a fighter, but not a very good sniper.

The situations she and Boone had gotten into certainly hadn't dulled the man's abilities though. Gorobets had almost thought he didn't need a spotter, but quick and dirty fighting rarely required one. Now that they were back into the regular swing of sniping, Boone was easing back into working with a spotter.

"Something's happening in the store," Merritt's voice crackled over the radio. He'd stayed with Sterling and Bitter-Root up in command. Though he would have wanted more eyes on the town, team one hadn't slept much. Gorobets looked in the direction of the town as the ranger continued. "They're moving."

"Two of them," Spades said over the radio, "and one's got a hostage. Looks like…" There was a curse over the radio, and Gorobets raised his rifle to look through the scope.

"It's Layla," Boone growled, pulling back the bolt on his rifle.

Gorobets swore. One of the Gangers had the Courier in a headlock, pistol shoved against her jaw.

"Easy," the lieutenant said calmly. "Just watch for an opening." He knew Boone didn't need to be reminded, but Mitch looked nervous.

"Team two, I want you on the second Ganger," Gorobets said into the radio. "Once the hostage is free, take them out."

"Acknowledged," Betsy said over the radio.

"What's going on down there?" Gorobets asked into the radio.

"They're saying they won't shoot anyone if the sheriff lets them walk out of town." There was a pause. "With Granville."

That wasn't going to fly. Powder Gangers weren't known for their gentle manners with women. Judging by their positioning, they'd have a while before either team would need to move to get the group back in their sights.

"Team one, I want you to start making your way north to set up. We're going to have to relay teams until we can get a clear-"

A shot was fired and echoed through the town, and Gorobets snapped his head up. By the time he got his scope to his eye, another shot had been fired. Looking to the scene, he found both Powder Gangers were down. Layla was on her feet. It looked like there was blood on her cheek, but she was otherwise unharmed.

"Who took that first shot?" the Lieutenant demanded into the radio. It certainly hadn't been Boone.

"It wasn't us," Betsy's voice crackled. "I had the second one."

"It was someone in town," Mitch said suddenly. "He's coming from the town hall." Gorobets looked to see a man with a rifle making his way toward Layla. The lieutenant was pretty sure it was the Mayor's son.

"That fucking idiot could have taken her head off!" Betsy cried, sounding furious.

"All right, I want everyone back at camp in ten," Gorobets said. Betsy was right, and they all knew it. He looked down at Boone and found the man still looking through his scope.

"Come on," he said. "She's okay."

*.*.*

"Are you sure you do not want a stim?" Doctor Dross asked in her thick Boneyard-German accent as she adhered a bandage to Jackie's cheek as she sat on the examination table in the tiny clinic.

"Nah, it's not like it's disfiguring or life threatening… right?" the girl said.

"It should not be," Dross replied.

"Good, and I like to only take stimpaks if it's important. I hear they work better that way."

"That is old wives tale," the doctor said as she moved back to inspect her work. Layla knew that too, but Jackie didn't.

"Well, I'd rather not waste them in case of a real emergency," she said, and the doctor nodded.

"You are all set, if you feel light-headed come back here. You do not have a concussion, but if you feel strange, you need to have me look again."

"Thank you," Jackie said as she hopped off the table.

Dross nodded, then turned to Darren, who'd been waiting nearby.

"Are you seeing her back to Smithy?"

"Yes Ma'am," the man answered.

"Good. Make sure she isn't walking strangely."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Soon Jackie was opening the door to the general store. Before she went in, she turned back to Williams.

"Well, um, thank you. I don't know what would have happened back there if it hadn't been for you."

Darren gave her a serious look. "I couldn't let them hurt you."

"Oh, uh, thank you." She could feel a slight blush creeping up. "I guess I'll see you in town…"

"Yeah." He tipped his hat to her. "Good bye."

As she closed the door behind her, she heard Smithy laugh.

"There you are! You really are something, you know that?"

"Is this about getting taken hostage?" Jackie said as she bent over to start putting the cans that had been knocked over back on the shelf.

"No! It's about you selling those cock-sucking dandies half the store," he cried delightedly. "Never mind we got all the product back too!"

"I'm glad you're so concerned about me, boss."

"Go home," Smithy said. "I'm sure you're all over-excited and likely to faint. Given that you're a woman."

Layla stopped herself from getting offended at that. "If you say so, Smithy."

"I do, and in light of your good work, I'm still gonna pay you for the double shift."

"You'll get no argument here," Jackie said with a smile.

She stepped back outside a few minutes later, pocket full of caps and most of the day still ahead of her. Instead of making directly for the saloon, she decided to head to Tanner's. She'd survived a hostage crisis and managed to make nice with the big person of interest. It was time to celebrate.

The clothing store was a small building at the end of the main drag. She'd had to keep cool about this place since she'd found it, but when the mission was over, she was going to run back to the Strip and grab Veronica. Then they'd probably buy out the whole building. For now, she had to be content with window shopping and hoarding her spare caps.

Stepping inside the building, Layla peered around to see who was working. Tanner, the owner, was a gentle man who didn't seem to mind her repeat visits. He'd told her she could look at his wares as often as she liked. He'd even said she could try some of the dresses on, provided she was dust-free.

Tanner wasn't in today, though; it was his part-time clerk, Katie, at the counter. The girl was young, somewhere around sixteen by the look of her. Layla would have thought she was working in the shop to pay for a dress, but that was unlikely; she was the mayor's only daughter.

The Courier suspected she was working in the shop to vex her mother. The Courier had a hard time believing the woman would approve of her girl doing such mundane things. Katie, while seemingly a bit more level-headed, had her mother's attitude.

"Jackie," the girl said when she saw her. "So much for paying customers…"

"Not yet," she answered as she approached the counter. "I can't imagine Tanner's hurting too much though. I heard the White Gloves are interested in him."

"They are," the girl said airily as she went back to her magazine. "But that doesn't mean this is a museum."

"I'm just researching a future purchase," Jackie responded, then moved off to look at her dress while Katie snorted.

There it was; strapless, floor-length, pale blue silk taffeta, an ivory, embroidered inset on the shelf bust, and the crinoline already built in under the skirt. Layla hadn't known what most of that meant when Tanner had first told her. He'd explained it to her on later visits, telling her that he'd hand-made the gown from pre-war patterns.

Either way, Jackie and Layla were both in love. Layla knew she could easily afford the gown once the mission was over, but some stubborn part of her wanted to see if she could get it as Jackie.

Now she regretted not stopping by the saloon before she'd come here. She could have taken a bath and come back to try the dress on. Though Tanner wasn't here, and he'd asked that he be around when she did. Oh well.

Moving back to the counter, Layla found Katie looking her way.

"It'll clash with your hair," she said, making Layla frown.

"Maybe I'll dye it another color…" Jackie recovered. Katie shrugged as she went back to her magazine. She looked up a moment later.

"How was it?"

"How was what?" Jackie responded.

"The Powder Gangers. Word got out what happened. Weren't you scared?"

Jackie shrugged. "It's dangerous out here. You get used to this kinda thing."

The girl didn't look happy at that. Jackie frowned.

"You just gotta keep your head on straight, wait for an opening. Don't let fear cloud your judgment." Katie looked thoughtful and nodded. Jackie stepped away from the counter.

"Well, I'd better be on my way. You have a good evening," Jackie said to the girl, who nodded distractedly.

"Bye."

*.*.*

Layla sighed contentedly as she sat down with her bowl of soup. It had been a hectic day, but a hot dinner would make it all better. If only she could sneak away to Old Sloan…

As she mused on it, a shadow fell over her. Looking up, she found Darren Williams had approached her table.

"Do you mind if I have a seat?" he asked.

"Please do," Jackie said with a grin "Come to check up on your handiwork?"

"Well, sort of," the man sat at the table. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't too spooked."

"That's awful nice of you."

"Well, I admit I have an ulterior motive."

"Oh?" Layla had to stop herself from worrying. Even if someone she knew was a terrorist had just said that to her, they were in the middle of a crowded building. Nothing to worry about-

"I was wondering if you'd like to go out tomorrow. On a date."

Layla stared at him blankly.

"I don't want you to think that you owe me anything," Darren said rapidly, starting to stand. "If you think I'm being out of line, then we'll just forget all about-"

"Wait, wait," Jackie said, holding up her hands. "Don't go. You just surprised me is all."

He sat back down, looking somewhat relieved. Layla could feel her brain attempting to think this through before she answered, but decided to skip it and just responded.

"I'd like that."

Darren smiled. "Great. How about dinner? I'll come by around eight?"

"Sounds good," Jackie answered.

"I'll see you then," the man said as he stood. He tipped his hat. "Good night."

"Good night," Layla said, watching as he made his way out of the saloon. Merritt was going to be very happy about this. It was a perfect opportunity to get in his good books and show her disdain for the NCR at the same time.

Layla really hoped Boone wouldn't be upset.

* * *

><p>Thank you all for reading, and reviewing if you get the chance. All these reviews lately are making me giddy :3<p> 


	5. Corral Dust

"Do you think B-B-Boone's gonna be okay?" Spades asked as he and Betsy walked down the road to Old Sloan.

"He'll be fine; he knows it's business," the corporal answered. "I think."

"You think?"

"Well, I never really dealt with him while he was dating someone. He'd kept Carla a secret, and they got married before anyone really knew about it."

"Why did he keep her a secret?"

"Probably didn't want to get shit for it." She kicked a rock in her path down the road. "Which was smart, because we would have totally given him shit for it. He never seriously dated anyone while he was in the service, just had a date for the evening kind of thing."

"I don't think of him as the heartbreaker t-t-type."

"Who? Boone? Ha!" the corporal laughed. "If he had a date, it was usually because someone else set it up. He's terrible with women, clams up if a skirt looks at him. Carla did all the leg work from what I heard. And you know how it went with Layla."

"So you don't know how he's going to take this?"

"Not really." Betsy shrugged. "He doesn't lose his cool easily. I wouldn't go bringing it up candidly though-"

"Cool it," Spades said suddenly. "Quarry workers."

A small group was heading back toward the town along the same road they were walking. The only one Betsy knew was Lansing. The one who kept giving Layla a hard time. The corporal gave him a withering look as they passed by.

"Hey baby, you wanna real man?" he said. "That shrimp could barely reach your tits."

Betsy stopped. Layla might have to put up with this shit, but she didn't.

"Watch your m-m-mouth," Spades said before she could respond. She had to hide a grin; her little man was growing up. Lansing didn't seem to appreciate it.

"Stay out of it, stumpy. A real piece of ass like this doesn't need a tongue-tied dipshit like you."

Well now Betsy was pissed. She turned to him, rolling her neck until it cracked.

"All right, fucktard," she said. "Either you go back to the hole you slithered out of, or I'm going to flatten you."

"Woah!" one of the other quarry workers said. "Babe's got claws. Sound like she don't like you, Lansing."

"She must be a queer if she doesn't want a piece of this," the man said, then turned back her way. "You one of those military dykes?"

"Yes," she answered, "I'm a lesbian. What now?" The group froze.

"Oh…" Lansing paused, "Well you just haven't had a real man. I can solve that problem for you."

"Well there sure isn't a 'real man' among you chucklefucks. Get the fuck out of here before I shoot you," Betsy said. The men mumbled to themselves, then started back toward town.

"I don't think they were expecting that," Spades said, laughing.

"They can go suck each other off for all I care."

*.*.*

"Are you listening?"

Layla snapped her head up. "Oh, um… no."

Vincent Caruthers sighed. "What's wrong with you today?"

"I've got a date tonight," Jackie admitted.

"Shouldn't you be happy?" Caruthers said. Layla had come to his office to order supplies for Smithy. The old coot didn't like having to use the Crimson Caravan for his goods, but they were the only game in town. Mayor Williams must have pulled some strings with the company to have a dedicated employee here. Vincent would leave once a week with the town's order and come back with a caravan of goods.

"I am," Jackie said. "I'm just nervous." That was true enough, though not for the reason Vincent was probably thinking. She'd found a note in the empty water can outside her window telling her to go to Old Sloan today, undoubtedly to prepare her for tonight. Which was good; she really wanted to talk to Boone before this all happened.

"Nervous? You?" Caruthers laughed. "I don't buy it."

"What?" She looked back his way, worried for a moment that he'd figured her out.

"You honestly think I'm going to believe you have trouble with men?"

"Oh… well not really. But I don't know." She flashed a grin at Caruthers. "Darren doesn't seem the type to go for the usual slap and tickle routine. I don't want to get run out of town by his father if he gets offended."

"That won't happen," he said. "Two reasons: one, he'd never go to his father on a personal matter like that; and two, Darren's too nice a guy for that kind of thing."

Layla frowned. All she ever heard about Darren was that he was nice. The Last Frontiersmen were supposed to be murdering NCR troops. So how did 'nice' Darren figure into that?

"He was in here just a few hours ago," Vincent continued. "I think he's more nervous than you."

"Oh? Well, I'm sure tonight will go fine," Jackie said, and Layla hoped so too. "I guess I'd better get back."

"Don't forget the register," Caruthers said. "And get your head out of the clouds."

"Yeah yeah," Jackie said as she picked up the book Smithy used to keep track of his orders. Walking back toward the general store, she tapped her fingers against the book nervously. Tonight better work out.

*.*.*

Boone looked down at his rifle, which was in pieces on the bed. It was his anti-materiel rifle. Gorobets had taken one look at his auto-rifle and declared it for 'emergencies only,' so he'd been favoring the larger gun. This was the third time he'd cleaned it today.

He got the feeling Mitch was afraid of hanging around him right now. That suited Boone fine; he wasn't in the mood to talk. His new partner was growing on him, even if he was overbearing, but he really didn't want to field questions about the current situation on someone he'd only known for a week.

He'd been crawling up the walls all day, to the point that he'd been banished from the office by Sterling until he calmed down. Layla was supposed to be here soon. They'd be discussing the plan for her … date.

Boone wasn't a jealous man, but he didn't like this. Layla wasn't just batting her eyelashes at Swank to get a good table at the Aces. She was going on a date. With someone who wasn't him.

He sighed, wishing this wasn't bothering him so much. It was business; that was usually enough for him. He'd never admit it to Morton, but he was starting to regret mixing business with relationships.

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his tin of Coyote Tobacco. Layla wasn't a big fan of him using the stuff, but it wasn't really a habit. Chewing tobacco was only something he did when he was angry or annoyed. The realization that he was pissed off only pissed him off further as he shoved a wad into his mouth.

The door to the bunkhouse opened and Gorobets stepped in. Boone held back a sigh; he knew what was coming.

"There you are," the lieutenant said. "You've got Mitch scared stupid."

Boone managed to hold back a comment about his partner's usual stupidity as he started reassembling his gun. Gorobets pulled a chair over to his bunk and sat.

"Let's talk," he said. Boone sighed.

"Nothing to talk about. I'm not happy. I'll live."

Gorobets leaned back in his chair. "Boone, tell me right now that this Darren business isn't going to affect your abilities or judgment in this mission."

"It won't."

"Now tell me it's not going to wreck your relationship with Layla."

"It won't."

His commanding officer seemed pleased with that response. "Good. I don't blame you for not liking this. I don't like it." He freed his canteen from his belt. "I'm pretty sure Layla doesn't like it either. No one does, except Merritt, probably Morton too."

"Because he's an ass."

"True," Gorobets agreed, then took a drink. "I'm sure Merritt's aware of the discomfort with this date business. That's why he asked Layla up tonight." He put his canteen away. "He wants to give her a chance to back out on the mission."

Boone looked up at that, "This far in?"

"Yep. He wanted to make sure you two had come to an agreement about it too."

That hadn't been something he'd expected from Merritt. It definitely made him like the man more.

"What are you going to say to her?" Gorobets asked.

Boone shrugged. "I'm not happy, but it's okay."

The other man nodded at that. "She's won't like you getting riled up about it." That was true; Layla hated it when people weren't happy, even if it was unavoidable.

"I'll make it up to her."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Buy her that dress she keeps looking at."

The lieutenant laughed. "That should do it." He looked up at the ceiling, then back to Boone. "You know that thing probably costs a month's pay, right?"

Boone merely nodded, and Gorobets laughed again. The younger man finished putting his rifle back together, then sighed.

"I wouldn't be too worried about tonight. I'd say a good night kiss, tops." Gorobets said. "If he's an idiot and gets handsy, then he'll be getting a much different good night kiss."

The lieutenant made a gun with his hand. "Pow." That did wonders to improve Boone's mood.

"You might want to head up to the surveillance room. She'll be here soon," Gorobets said as he stood and replaced the chair. "And stop with the chew. She'll kill both of us if she finds out you've been at it again. Nagging women!" he said as he walked out of the bunkhouse, shutting the door behind him.

*.*.*

Layla lowered herself out of her rented room's window. It was just dusk now, and no one ever seemed to be around this time of day. She'd just have to be careful sneaking around the jailhouse, and she should be able to leave town undetected.

She moved in short bursts, keeping an eye on her surroundings taking care to not make any noise. She'd only started sneaking effectively in the last few months, paying attention to how Boone moved. He was like a deathclaw, huge, quiet and deadly. A big sexy deathclaw.

Layla dismissed that thought. Oh, she hoped he wouldn't be upset. She'd know soon enough.

Spades was on the bunk house's roof, rifle out and scanning the area. They usually had one person watching the road when she came up just to make sure no one was looking. Layla hadn't asked yet what the plan was if they caught someone.

She rapped a knuckle on the metal bunkhouse wall in greeting as she passed, then hurried into the office building.

"Hey, it's the two-timer," Bitter-Root called when she came in. He was near the pool table with Sterling. She glared at him, but he merely went back to his game.

"They're waiting for you upstairs," he said over his shoulder.

"Okay." Layla hesitated on the first stair, then pressed on. The surveillance room was still as cluttered as before, though the Fancy Lad supply was starting to dwindle. Gorobets, Boone and the two rangers looked up as they entered.

"Miss Granville," Merritt spoke first after a brief awkward pause. "Come in. Let's go over tonight's strategy."

Nodding Layla moved over to the table. Morton fixed a sneer at her.

"We need to know what your plan is. Do you have one?"

Layla shrugged. "I figured it would be best to not pry too much, but try to get in Darren's good books."

"Well that sounds just ducky," the ranger said, crossing his arms over his chest. "And what if Mr. Williams' good books include actions your boyfriend won't approve of?"

"I wouldn't let him get very far even if I wasn't dating someone," Layla answered. Surprisingly, Morton laughed.

"You've painted 'Jackie' as a crass woman, it's hard to believe she'd be a prude."

That hadn't really occurred to her.

"Just because she swears doesn't mean she's easy," Gorobets spoke up. Morton shook his head.

"You all were so happy to put little miss sunshine in this mission, well now we have to live with the consequences. It's too bad if you don't like where it goes."

"She didn't sign up to be your whore," Gorobets shot back, starting to sound angry.

"Miss Granville doesn't have to do anything she isn't comfortable with, Albert," Merritt interjected. The other ranger gave him an exasperated look, then threw his hands up.

"Make sure your wiretap is on. You'll have to make sure he doesn't discover it if he touches you," Merritt continued. Layla could see Boone's jaw clench out of the corner of her eye. "We'll have one of the sniper teams keeping an eye on you."

"Not his," Morton interjected, pointing at Boone. "I don't want hormonal territorialism scraping this mission prematurely."

Boone glared at the man, and Gorobets spoke up again.

"Sterling and Bitter-Root will take care of that." He looked to Layla. "What do you want me to tell them?"

Layla chewed her lip for a moment thinking. "I'm not going to say there's a signal or anything. If he does something I'm not happy with, I'll handle it. If it looks like he's gonna stab me or something, then they can pop him."

The lieutenant nodded, and Merritt spoke again.

"Do you have any questions?"

Layla shook her head. "No, but I'd like to speak with Boone for a moment, alone."

"We don't have time to figure just how stupid it was putting you on this mission," Morton said, pointing a finger at Layla. "You've got to get back to-"

"Boone, take Layla to the back room and talk," Gorobets interrupted, ignoring Morton's glare. Layla saw Merritt nod as Boone approached her. They walked down the stairs and Boone ushered her into the nap room. Layla followed, feeling her stomach twist as she did. Once inside, she sat on the bed.

"Are you okay with this?" she blurted out. He took off his sunglasses and sat next to her.

"No." He shrugged. "Not my call to make, though."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he said, putting an arm around her. "I'm not mad at you."

Layla nearly sagged in relief. "Okay, let's get this all on the table then." She turned to face him fully. "What don't you want to happen tonight? How far is too far?"

"I don't want him touching you."

"What if I touch him?" she asked. He stared at her, and she groaned. "That didn't come out right." She shook her head. "How far can things go before I cross a line?"

"Layla," he started, "I'm not comfortable with any of this. There's no line to set. But I know it has to be done. I trust you. You'll know if things are going too far."

The Courier nodded, then lied back on the bed with an explosive sigh.

"Never simple with us, huh?"

"No," Boone admitted, turning her way. "Come here."

Finally smiling, she sat up and kissed him. He tasted like chewing tobacco. She didn't like him using the stuff, so she wasn't going to let him know how good it made him taste afterward. Boone pulled her closer as he deepened their kiss. Layla sighed into his mouth as his hand tangled in her hair.

The heat and possessiveness of his mouth on hers and his arms around her were starting to make her lightheaded. She came dangerously close to knocking his beret off as she ran her hand over his scalp while the other dragged down his back, tracing the curve of his spine. A few moments later their lips parted and she laid her head on his shoulder with sigh.

Opening her eyes, she saw by the cracks in the wall that the sun had set.

"Oh." She looked at her arm and swore at the lack of Pip-Boy. "I've got to get back."

Boone was frowning as he nodded.

*.*.*

Layla paced as she waited in her room. She'd already taken her bath and done her best to freshen up her clothes. She'd shaved and cleaned her fingernails and plucked any wayward hairs. As she went about her routine, she found it hard to not feel guilty for gussying up for a man that wasn't hers.

She sighed; they'd been over this, she'd been over this. There wasn't any reason to feel guilty. She certainly wasn't going to let this go very far. She was just going to have make a good enough impression with one date to get in this guy to like her, but hopefully not like her too much.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Jackie? Darren's waiting for you by the bar," Surly Li called.

"Oh, thank you," she answered. She double-checked the seams on her stockings and squared her shoulders.

"Here goes," she said out loud to herself and the group listening in on her.

Stepping out of her room, she decided to banish her guilt and be done with it for now. She might as well try to make the best of this. Layla wondered why Darren hadn't come to her door, but figured he must have thought it was too forward to show up at her bedroom.

She caught sight of him just as she reached the main room. He usually wore good quality leather armor, but tonight he was in a black button-down shirt and dark jeans. His usual cowboy boots and hat were in place, though they looked cleaner tonight. Layla almost felt bad for not trying to rustle up something nicer to wear, but too late now.

"Hey," the man said as he caught sight of her.

"Hi," Jackie answered. "You look nice." Darren laughed.

"Isn't that my line?" he said, then scratched the back of his head. "So I uh, have something for you…" He sounded embarrassed, then handed her a small box with a ribbon on it.

"I hope you don't mind. It's candy. From California."

Layla had to put a lot of effort into not reacting out of character.

"Oh thank you!" she said. She looked at the box. "Do you mind if I go drop them off before we leave?"

"Sure." Darren smiled. "That'll give Jas a minute to finish up anyway."

"Jas?"

"I ordered us dinner here." He seemed to pick up on her displeasure. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, I uh… yes, that's fine of course," Jackie said quickly. "I'll be right back."

Layla had to stop from running back to her room. She almost stowed the candy in her floorboard, but decided against it and put on the dresser.

"To any parties who are upset by my receiving expensive candy," she whispered into the microphone sewn into her shirt, "I'm going to earn them by eating cannibal food."

Steeling herself, she made her way back to the bar. Darren smiled when he saw her.

"Just in time," he said, pulling out a chair for her.

Layla looked at the table and the food set out on it and forced a smile.

"Thank you."

*.*.*

Layla couldn't help but wonder if the man walking next to her had any clue of how much danger he was in. To be fair, he'd been pretty gentlemanly, so she didn't think he'd come to harm. He'd asked her to go for a walk after dinner, which she'd readily agreed to.

The Courier hadn't been sure what a date with a terrorist was going to be like; so far, pretty tame. If it turned out he was actually very good at hiding his intentions of doing something unsavory, well, that probably wouldn't go well for him or his currently unexploded head.

Layla was proud of how well she'd been handling things. She'd forgotten how much fun it was flirting with no intention of payout. So long as you kept it light and didn't lead people on.

She used to do it all the time, before she'd left California. It had tapered off not long after Benny had shot her. Somewhere around the time she got to Novac if she remembered correctly. Once she'd picked up Boone, she'd greatly reduced her flirty tendencies. Layla should have known then and there how she felt about him.

"So, how long are you staying here?" Darren asked, sounding casual as he broke up her train of thought.

"Not sure," Layla replied. "Sometimes I'll stick around a place for months or even years… but all the NCR lackies are kind of a buzz-kill."

He laughed at that. "I know what you mean. Things are bad in California. But you probably figured there wasn't much for independence out there."

"I certainly wasn't planning on heading that way," Jackie responded. "Do you think there's any hope for places like this?" Looking over, she found the man giving her a somber look.

"I don't know. There's only so much you can do…"

Jackie sighed. "I know… I just wish there was more than sitting around bitching about it… or plotting to firecracker random soldiers."

Darren's melancholy expression left as he laughed again. "Who knows? Maybe we'll figure something out one day." By now, they'd made their way back to the saloon.

"Well, I guess this is you," Darren said as they came to a stop in front of the stairs. Layla felt something in her stomach clench. This was going to be the awkward part.

"Thank you," she said. "I had a good time." Suddenly it occurred to her that she'd forgotten what it was she was supposed to do. Back in California, there was a set of rules to this thing: don't sound too eager, don't be too aloof, only put out a little. But this wasn't California… She'd never really dated anyone out here. Well, except Boone, and their first 'date' could potentially be considered The Second Battle of Hoover Dam… and she'd definitely put out. Never mind the whole she-was-actually-dating-someone-who-wasn't-this-guy thing

"So…" Darren shifted his weight. "My father's having a party for some of his old friends… He asked that I find a date. Honestly I didn't even want to go to it at all. But maybe it wouldn't be so bad with someone interesting to go with." He smiled. "It's on Saturday… Would you like to go with me?"

The Courier could almost imagine the happy dance Merritt was doing. And the face Boone was making.

"That would be great." She smiled, then decided she was going to have to do something to put an end to the night. She opted to give the man a quick peck on the cheek.

"Good night," she said, going for the door.

"Good night." Darren answered. Jackie smiled one last time and went inside. The saloon was still pretty crowded, so she quickly made for the back of the building.

Once she was in her room, she sat on her bed. She spotted the candies on her dresser and frowned. She'd been skating on thin ice with this date. Now she was going to a formal party with the guy.

Boone was not going to be happy.

* * *

><p>Oh, this chapter did NOT want to come together! Thanks a bunch to my editor, who put up with a lot of grumbling. And thank you, readers! See you Wednesday!<p> 


	6. Bothahrayshun

Layla sighed as she pushed her Blamco Mac and Cheese around in its bowl. She'd decided to indulge this morning after she hauled herself out of bed. Unfortunately, pre-war partially irradiated cheese-like powder wasn't doing its usual magic to improve her dour mood.

"What's wrong, Miss Jackie?" Wilber the bartender asked, leaning on the counter. "I thought that was your favorite?"

"It is... usually."

"Date didn't go well?" the man said as he started cleaning a pile of glasses from the night before.

"Oh no, I had a nice time. I just..." Layla had to remind herself to be careful. Wilber was a little too observant for comfort. It wouldn't do to let anything slip about any of her real or fake relationships.

"I'm just worried about tonight. I've never been to a party held by a wealthy politician."

"Ah, worried you'll use the wrong fork?"

"No." Jackie smiled. "My grandmother taught me which ones to use. But I don't know how to dance and I'm worried I'm going to put my foot in my mouth and embarrass everyone..."

"Don't worry. It's hard to not like a nice young lady like you."

_Tell that to General Moore. _"I hope you're right," she said out loud.

He nodded, but then the man's cheery attitude faded. "Have you heard about Mr. Caruthers?"

"What about him?" Jackie asked, looking up from her breakfast when she heard his somber tone.

"He's missing."

"What? Are you sure? Maybe he just went back to the Crimson Caravan early."

"I'm afraid not." The bartender set down the glass in his hand and lowered his voice. "His order books and personal effects were still in his office."

"Weapons?" Jackie asked. The man shook his head.

"Still there."

Jackie bit her lip, glad her wiretap was on. A disappearance in town couldn't be a good thing, and if she had to guess, it probably had to do with the Last Frontiersmen.

"Is Juarez looking into it?"

"The sheriff will do his best, but I hear there wasn't much to go on," Wilber explained. "He'll probably end up talking to those snipers troops. They've been keeping a watch on the town. Maybe they saw something."

"I hope so..." Layla picked at her food. The little appetite she'd had was completely gone now. Caruthers was a decent guy, from what she'd seen of him. But nothing good ever came of people disappearing without at least taking their weapons.

*.*.*

Mitch looked into the remains of the mirror on the wall with a groan. He scrubbed the rag in his hand around his eye, hoping to get rid of the shoe polish ring someone had put on his spotting scope.

It had to be Spades; Bitter-Root's plans were usually far more involved and usually paid out in front of the whole group. It certainly wasn't Boone. He was all moody since the Courier's date last night.

Mitch couldn't help but be pleased to see Golden Boy so glum. Usually everything was coming up roses for him. The others always coddled him and fawned over his girl; meanwhile, Boone was one of the worst cases of 'by the book' he'd ever had to deal with. If Boone was given orders, he followed them to the letter, which meant Mitch usually had to as well.

He'd love to take the man down a few pegs. Though going through the Courier didn't seem very likely, it would be the easiest route. Mitch wasn't going to go barking up Layla's tree. But if she ever offered…

For now, he had to settle for some admittedly juvenile, yet incredibly satisfying goading. He walked back to the table in the center of the room and sat down across from his partner.

"Doesn't it bother you?" he asked. Boone looked up from his magazine. "That Darren guy. I mean, yeah, he doesn't know Layla's your girl, obviously, but he's laying it on pretty thick."

"Seemed all right to me," Sterling said from his cot. "Didn't touch her, no dirty limericks, didn't carry her off." He looked at Boone. "Don't most people carry her off?"

"Sometimes," Boone said, going back to his reading.

"Yeah, but I mean, he's obviously interested in her," Mitch continued, then noticed with some satisfaction the frown that was spreading across Boone's face. "You don't buy a girl candy and ask her to parties if you're not planning on getting something out of it."

"Not everyone has your reptile brain," Bitter-Root said, voice muffled by his pillow. "Quit prodding before you get Boone mad."

"He might be feeling her out for The Last Frontiersmen," Sterling added.

"More like he wants to be feeling her up," Mitch replied. Bitter-Root pulled his face from his pillow.

"Do you have a death wish?"

"You don't want to see Boone angry," Sterling said with a grin. "Remember last week when we got jumped by those fiends, and Boone managed to take half of them out with his machete?"

"Yeah?" Mitch shrugged. "So?"

"He wasn't angry then."

Mitch looked over to see a ghost of a smile on his partner's face. He decided it was probably a good time to shut up.

*.*.*

Layla carefully balanced the stack of boxes in her arms as she reached for the door knob in front of her with the tips of her fingers. They found purchase on the knob, but she couldn't work enough strength into turning it. The door opened before she attempted to shift the packages in her arms.

"Oh!" surprised, she nearly dropped the stack. "Mr. Kreeder, hello."

"Jackie," the man said, reaching out to take some of the boxes. "Smith sent you?"

"Yes sir."

"Come in," he said, carrying the boxes he'd grabbed. Layla followed him into his workshop with the now manageable load. After depositing the boxes on a table, he moved to a desk against the wall. Layla found the man had another visitor, one of the quarry workers.

"You're Jackie, right?" the man asked, Layla nodded. "I've heard Lansing talk about you, I'm Demarco."

"Hello," Jackie said, looking the man over. He was short, only a few inches taller than Layla and had dark, neat hair. "Are you a... friend of Lansing's?"

"Yeah," he scratched his neck, "But I know he's an idiot."

"How much for the order?" Kreeder asked from his desk, interrupting them.

"Oh, uh," Layla dug the order out of her pocket, "one hundred caps."

The mechanic nodded and took the slip out of her hand. Layla looked around the shop as he noted in his records about the delivery. It was a very neat set up; tools arraigned very carefully, unfinished orders all on separate tables, no clutter or mess in the room.

The machinery he was working on look complicated, one she theorized was an engine from one of the cranes. Another looked like it could be part of the conveyer belt to the rock crusher.

"So, how'd you end up here?" Jackie directed at Demarco, stepping closer to one of the tables to look at what appeared to be an exhaust system of some kind.

"I needed money, and there was work here," he replied. "What about you?"

"Same," Jackie answered, "I was hoping to keep away from the NCR… but I don't think that's going to be an option for long around here."

She looked over to find the man frowning while he nodded.

"The problem is there's not much else to go to," Jackie continued. "I hear the Mormons up north are touchy, and there's the mess east in the old Legion territory."

"What about south?" Kreeder asked from his desk as he started counting out caps into a bag.

"It's hot enough here in the Mojave, I'm not looking to roast further."

Standing, Kreeder held out a bag of caps. "Looks like you're stuck here then."

"Looks like it," Jackie said with a shrug as she accepted the payment. "Not really anything I can do about it."

Kreeder merely nodded. Jackie didn't want to leave just yet, she had more prodding to do.

"Did you hear about Caruthers?" she asked.

"Someone will have to go to the Crimson Caravan Company to let them know," Kreeder answered. "The town will need a new representative."

"I hope they'll send another one. They may not take too kindly to this one getting murdered," Jackie said.

"We don't know if he's dead yet," Demarco pointed out.

"True… but I can't imagine whatever's happened to him is good."

Demarco shrugged, Kreeder merely nodded.

*.*.*

"Don't you have a big date tonight?" Smithy asked after Layla had come back from her deliveries. "Go home already!"

The Courier frowned; she'd been hoping the old man would keep her around late today. She'd come in early, bored and anxious for this evening.

"I don't have to go yet..."

"Don't give me that; you women need at least four hours to get ready. So get out of here."

"I really don't-"

"Get out of here!"

Layla sighed and started for the door. "Are you sure?"

"GET!"

Walking outside, she found the heat was still as sticky and disgusting as when she'd gone in the general store. Just walking down the road was miserable. As she started for the saloon, she thought about tonight's party. Layla had no clue what she was going to do. She truly had nothing to wear. Hesitating on the road, she thought about turning and going for Tanner's. Maybe he had something she could borrow for the night, if she put a deposit down.

"Jackie!"

She stopped and looked for the source of the cry.

"Jackie!"

Turning, Layla found Rodney, Tanner's boy, coming her way. She stopped and waiting for him as he ran over, a large box in his arms.

"Hey, Rodney," Jackie said. "What's up?"

"I've got a delivery for you," the boy said.

"Really?" she asked, perplexed. "From who?"

"Dad said you're not supposed to open it outside. I can carry it into the saloon if you'd like."

"Oh, thank you, that would be great." She followed the boy as he headed for the saloon. Once inside, Rodney set the box down on a table.

"What's going on?" Surly Li asked as she and Darla walked over.

"Someone sent me something from Tanner's," Jackie answered. Opening the box, Layla gasped.

"It's the dress! It's my dress!" Sure enough, inside was the pale blue silk taffeta gown, carefully packed with paper.

"Oh shit," Li said behind her. "That thing looks expensive. Who got it for you, was it Darren?"

"There's a card," Rodney said. "Dad asked that you go to see him tonight before the party in case it needs any adjustments."

"Oh… Oh, thank you," Layla said, moving to touch the fabric. She stopped just as she almost made contact, then rubbed her hand on her skirt to get the dust off before reaching out again. The fabric was smooth and silky.

"Please thank your father for me," she said to Rodney, who nodded.

"Read the card already," Darla said urgently. Layla picked up the small note and opened it.

_'Dear Jackie,_

_My son let me know you were going with him to the party I'm hosting tonight. I hope you don't find it forward of me to send this gift. I hope you enjoy it._

_Mayor Clarke Williams'_

"Oh boy," Jackie said. "It's from the mayor."

*.*.*

Gorobets and Sterling stood at the door to the bunkhouse. Every few seconds, a clanging sound rang out from inside.

"You or me?" Gorobets asked.

"That's your call, Lieutenant," the older man said, then added. "He sees you as a father-figure."

"I'm only ten years older than him, Gorobets replied. "_You're _closer to that age bracket."

"More like grandfather, and age doesn't matter with that kind of thing. He trusts you."

"He trusts you too," said the lieutenant. "I've already talked to him about this once. If I go again, he's gonna get annoyed."

"I don't think anything we do is going to annoy him further." There was another clang. "Despite Mitch's efforts."

"Mitch has been given him a hard time?" Gorobets asked, and Sterling shrugged.

"Sounded like he was trying to get his goat, that's all. You know how young guys are. He's probably trying to see what he can get away with."

Anther clang, and Gorobets shook his head. "I don't envy butting heads with Boone for dominance."

Sterling laughed. "Let's just go in together," he suggested, and Gorobets nodded. Opening the door, they both stepped into the building.

Boone was on one of the cots, throwing knives. As they approached, he threw one across the room, where it embedded into the wall.

"I'm fine," he said, then immediately threw another knife.

"I'm not so sure about that…" Gorobets said. "For starters, you're getting knives stuck in a metal wall."

"Good knives," Boone said, "bad walls." He lifted his hand to throw another.

"You're going to wreck those," Sterling said, sounding stern. 1st Recon had kept a set of throwing knives on hand for years. Gorobets had wanted to use them as backup weapons, but they only seemed to come out when someone was mad. The ex-ranger's' comment stayed the younger man's hand. Boone lowered the knife and sighed.

"Are you still up for this mission?" Gorobets asked. Boone looked up at him.

"Yes."

"Are you sure? I'd don't think anyone would blame you for being upset," Gorobets said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If some mug was taking my wife out, I'd be pretty pissed."

"S'different," Boone said.

"Sure it is. Layla's undercover and she doesn't want to do this any more than you want her to."

"She loves parties." The younger man was starting to sound glum. "And dresses."

"Is that was this is about?" Gorobets asked. Boone took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Yes." He shrugged. "It's a mission. I'll deal with it."

Gorobets was about to tell him that he'd at least saved a month's pay, but Sterling interrupted.

"Did you hear that?"

Listening, Gorobets was pretty sure he heard shouting, and not from one of his men. Boone shot to his feet, and all three men headed for the door. Just outside the building, Merritt was talking with Mayor Williams.

"I don't care about your excuses. You're all here because I allow it," the mayor said.

"And while we do appreciate it, you'll find we're not very effective if we're not allowed to do our jobs," Merritt responded. He didn't look happy, but at least he wasn't turning red like the other man.

"I don't want my guests seeing snipers pointing guns at them! You call off your guard shifts for the night!"

"We're out there for your safet-" Gorobets started, but Merritt held up a hand.

"Very well," Merritt said. "If you insist, that's fine. Are you hiring guards for this party?"

"No, that'd be just as bad," Williams muttered. The man looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled.

"I think I have an idea that'll make both of us happy," he said. "Why don't you come, Merritt? No one would besmirch an illustrious ranger at the party."

The ranger gave him a searching look, then nodded. "If you'd like me there, I'll be there."

"Good." Clarke was all smiles now. "I'll see you at eight... Try to make sure you aren't too dusty…"

The man stalked off, and Gorobets found Merritt grinning broadly.

*.*.*

"It's not too tight in the bust?"

"No, it's perfect."

"And the length?"

"Much better now."

"Good."

Layla looked at herself in the mirror. Tanner had hemmed the bottom of the dress so it didn't drag. Apparently pre-war designs didn't take short couriers into account. The man had also miraculously found her a pair of red shoes almost the exact same shade as her hair.

"All right," Tanner said, "and now for..." He tucked back one side of her hair and fastened it with a sparkling comb. She smiled it in the mirror, then had to stop from gasping; if he had pulled back the other side, he could have easily exposed the scars from her bullet wounds.

"Those stones aren't real… are they?" Jackie asked to cover her surprise.

"No no, it's costume jewelry," Tanner laughed, "but you tell any of those peacocks at the party that they're real."

"Yes sir," Jackie laughed.

"And finally…" The man draped a red shawl over her shoulders. "What do you think?"

Layla looked at herself again. She hadn't thought it possible, but the man had managed to make her outfit go with her hair.

"It's lovely." Jackie smiled. "Thank you."

"Thank the mayor," Tanner said. "He paid for it."

"Yeah.. About that…" Layla managed to tear her eyes away from her dress. "Do you know why? I've never even met him."

"Well… he's very protective of Darren," the man started, sitting on the stool against the wall. "Even if it annoys the boy. Mayor Williams wants him to be happy, have something normal and a little more stable in his life. He sees Darren interested in a young lady, so he wants you to be happy too."

Layla nodded thoughtfully, trying not to betray her thoughts. If she didn't know better, it sounded like Mayor Williams had an inkling of what his son was up to. That was interesting.

"It is getting late," Tanner said. "Darren should be here soon."

"Oh, I'd better go freshen up," Jackie said, and headed for the bathroom after grabbing her things.

Once inside, she moved quickly. Pulling the wiretap out of the pouch it had been in all week, she unzipped her dress and hung it around her waist with a length of cord, threading the wire up the bust of the dress. Layla had to hand it to herself; she hadn't just fawned over the prettiest dress in the place, but also the best situated for hiding a tap; the device hung against her backside, hidden by the pleating and sash tied into a bow on the back. Even if someone tried to grab her butt and touched the machine, they could easily mistake it for the stiffly sewn sash. Even the ivory inset's embroidery hid the microphone's bump.

"Jackie, I think I see Darren coming this way," Tanner said through the door.

"Thank you," she called back. Checking herself over, she smiled. This was the best damn dress in the whole world.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Layla saw Tanner turn her way.

"You'll be sure to tell anyone who asks where you got such a fine gown, right?"

Jackie laughed. "Will I get a discount?"

"We'll see."

"Well, thank you. It's wonderful."

There was a knock at the door, and Tanner went. A moment later Darren stepped in. He looked uncomfortable in his dark suit, though his cowboy boots and hat were still in place. He looked at her and smiled.

"You look great," he said.

"Thank you," Layla answered. "Ready?"

"If you are," the man replied, holding out an arm. Layla took it, and they started for the Mayor's house.

* * *

><p>I'm starting to regret asking my editor for the Ultimate edition of New Vegas for my birthday. Mainly because it's out now and my birthday isn't for weeks :{<p> 


	7. Hootenanny

"I have to say, Jackie…" Mrs. Williams started, and Layla could feel herself bracing for the impending comment.

"It's nice to see you cleaned up," she continued, surprising the Courier. She started to thank the woman, but Williams continued, "but it's a shame your hair is ruining the outfit… and you've got a little too much hip for a dress like that."

Layla started chewing the inside of her cheek as she tried to think of a good comeback.

"Are you about done insulting my date, Mother?" Darren said from Layla's side, sounding annoyed. His mother gave him a scowl.

"Dear, you could have had any of the girls you knew from California come over for this. Why stoop to the local bumpkins?"

"All right, that's enough of Mom for the evening," Darren said, hooking an arm in Layla's and steering her away. "If my mother finds any class at the end of the bottle she's been in, we'll talk again."

Mrs. Williams looked infuriated at that. Darren walked away, Layla in tow, before she could respond.

"I'm sorry about that," Darren said when they got further away. "She's usually not that bad. These parties tend to bring out the worst in her."

"Oh um… it's okay," Jackie said, not used to this much venom in a family. The Williams were clearly a bit more dysfunctional than she'd thought.

This party certainly had been educational. For one thing, the mayor's mansion was a lot bigger than she imagined. The room they were in was huge; there were tables set along the carpeted floor leading up to the bar, a wooden dance floor and a long buffet table. Tinny music drifted in from the speakers on the walls while everyone milled around.

There were somewhere between thirty and forty people at the party. Most had to have been from California. Everyone had been at least outwardly polite to her, but there had been a few sneers at her hair and the occasionally overheard backhanded compliment, which was better than she'd hoped.

"There she is!" a voice boomed from near the bar. Layla turned to see the Mayor waving at them. She heard Darren sigh as he guided her over.

"I see you accepted the gift," Mayor Williams said to Layla as they approached. "Darren, you've found yourself a sweet little thing for a change."

The younger Williams sighed. "Dad, please don't talk like she's not here."

The Mayor laughed, and Layla noted how red his cheeks were. "There's nothing wrong with telling a lady how good she looks," he said.

"Thank you for the dress," Jackie said. "It's lovely."

"Well, we can't have my boy's date in something too wastelandish. The guests might take offense." He leaned in closer, and Layla could smell whiskey on his breath. "They're all a bunch of prissy jerk offs."

The man boomed with laughter at that. Layla glanced at Darren and found him rubbing his forehead.

"Now, let's see what we can get for you, my dear," the Mayor continued. "Amos!" he called to the bartender. "Champagne for the lady!"

Layla perked up at that. She hadn't had any champagne since she'd had the suite at the Ultra Luxe. She was going to have to limit her intake; she didn't want to end up in her underwear again. The Mayor handed her a glass a moment later.

"Thank you very much," she said with a grin, and the Mayor laughed.

"Dames always love champagne! I'm just trying to help my boy score."

Layla's mouth dropped open. Oh, she hoped Boone wasn't listening in in on the wiretap tonight. He wouldn't like-

"And now we've had enough of Dad," Darren said, leading Layla away. "I… I'm sorry. This is a lot worse than I expected."

Jackie took a sip from her glass. "It's okay. I know how embarrassing family can be."

"I'm not looking to take advantage of-"

"Darren, I know," Jackie interrupted him. "It's okay, really."

The man rubbed his forehead again. "You're handling this pretty well. Have you been to many of these pseudo-political things?"

_More than you can imagine. _"No, but it's easy to blend in. You just laugh when everyone else does and make up something that goes with conversation and you're good." She took another sip. "And you take advantage of open bars and free food."

Darren laughed. "Well, I'm glad you're not offended."

"Nah," Jackie said. "I even got a dress out of this. You'll hear no complaints from me." The man's face twisted somewhat. "What?" she asked. Darren shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I'm glad you like the dress, but I don't like it when my father butts into my life."

Layla frowned, looking down at the garment. She didn't want her pretty dress tainted by family feuding and bad blood. Darren looked like he was about to speak again when someone started shouting in their direction.

"Darren! Come see your Aunt!" a woman with a very large hat cried from the bar. Darren's shoulder's sagged.

"Why don't you wait here," he said to Layla. "My aunt is pretty much twice as bad as my mother, without the tact."

"Yeah, I'll just stay here and enjoy my drink."

Darren sighed and shook his head. "I'll be right back."

"Have fun," Jackie said overly sweetly, making the man laugh.

He headed off for the bar again. Layla felt someone knock into her skirt and turned to see what it was. She found Toby, the youngest Williams, not watching where he was going.

"Oh, uh… Excuse me," the boy said insincerely, then quickly ducked behind her.

"Something wrong?" she asked, trying to see what he was hiding from.

"Avoiding my mother," the boy said. "I hate these stupid parties."

"That's too bad," Jackie said. "You look very handsome."

"Great," the boy grumbled. "This is boring… I'm going to get my mini-scorpions. Old ladies from California hate 'em."

"Don't complain if your father ends up tanning your hide."

The boy shrugged. "Beats this." He ran off. Layla thought about ratting him out, but decided against it. If she ended up with one of the things on her or her dress, though, she'd kill the little bastard.

The tinny speakers started playing Moonlight Serenade as she went back to looking around. She loved that song. Looking out at the dance floor, she suddenly felt a burst of melancholy as she wished Boone were here.

"Care to dance?" she heard from her side and turned. She was barely able to hide her surprise as Ranger Merritt stepped up to her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, trying to be mindful of anyone listening in on them.

"Invited by the Mayor." He looked out at the dance floor. "He didn't want any guards or snipers on duty, but thought a ranger wouldn't upset his guests too much."

"Ah, so if we get swarmed by deathclaws, it's going to be up to you to put them down."

"That's what it looks like," the ranger said, then looked at something over her shoulder. "Your date is coming. We'd better put on a show."

Layla grinned a moment before putting on an offended air. "I have nothing to say to you. Get lost!" She colored the last part with a bit of urgency.

Merritt looked like he was about to respond when Darren stepped in.

"Is he bothering you?" the man said, leveling a glare at Merritt.

"He's a ranger; they're all a pain in the ass," was her answer. Darren continued giving the other man a sour look and took Jackie's hand.

"Let's go find better company," he said, leading her away. Layla looked back to see Merritt giving her an amused look.

"What an ass," she grumbled for Darren's benefit.

"Ignore him," Darren said stiffly. He looked down at her, and his expression softened. "He won't ruin our good time, right?"

Jackie smiled. "Right."

"Good," he said with a grin. "Let's go see how Katie's doing."

The young woman was looking over the refreshment table when they approached. She smiled at her brother.

"Hey, Darren." She looked around the room. "Are you enjoying all the stuffed shirts?"

"As much as usual," the man said flatly. "I'm getting us another drink. You want something, Kate?" The younger girl nodded, and Darren grinned.

"Three champagnes coming up."

That would make two drinks tonight… Two drinks were bad. Darren headed off to the bartender and Layla looked back to the floor. When she got back to the Strip, she'd have to goad the White Gloves into a ball she could take her brown hair and her sniper to. She got the feeling the posh group wouldn't need a lot of pressing to host such a thing. Bringing herself back to the situation at hand, she looked at Katie.

"I'm guessing I have you to thank for this," Jackie said. The Mayor's daughter was in a soft pink dress that looked suspiciously like it had been made for her. Katie looked up from the table, then went back to selecting a piece of fruit.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Mmm hm, I just happened to get the exact dress I was looking at all week from your father. Someone had to tell him which one."

"Oh. That." Katie turned and looked at Layla. "That was Tanner. I said your hair would clash with it." There was a hint of a smile on her face.

"Uh huh," Layla said. "Does your father throw these parties often?"

"All the time in California." Katie frowned. "He came out here to get away from this kind of thing. But mother was insistent."

"Oh." Layla took a piece of apple from the table. "That was nice, doing this for your mother."

The younger girl snorted. "There's nothing nice about this; I'm sure he's just bribing something out of her."

"Oh," Jackie said awkwardly. "Well -"

She was cut off by a scream near the doors of the party room. Layla started moving toward the sound, thinking someone had been hurt. She came up short at what she saw.

Powder Gangers.

*.*.*

Sterling was a patient man, but he was going to deck his partner and Spades in a minute if they didn't stop hovering over him.

"Your move, grandpa," said Pudd, one of the quarry workers, said from across the table. The ex-ranger looked up from his cards; Tanner, Jas and Smithy were looking at him expectantly. The kindly tailor had invited him to join their poker game in the back of the saloon. Sterling was pretty sure most of the table weren't happy about this.

"I call," he answered, sliding his chips over.

He heard Spades make a nervous noise behind him and bit back his response. The ex-ranger had been using the reactions of the younger snipers to aid his bluffing, but the others playing were starting to get wise to his tricks.

"I'm all in," Smithy said with a challenging glower in Sterling's direction. The general store owner hadn't been subtle in his dislike of the sniper. Jas and Tanner folded, and Pudd called. Sterling looked at his cards and tried to decide what to do.

Just as he was about to call, he heard a commotion from the main room of the saloon. The door burst open a moment later.

"Powder Gangers," Gorobets called from the doorway.

"Fold," Sterling said, standing. It figured when he was ahead the town would get attacked. He regrouped with Gorobets in the main room. Teams one and two were gathered with him as most of the other people in the saloon left in a hurry.

"Where are they?" Bitter-Root asked.

"The Mayor's party."

"You've got to be kidding me," Betsy groaned. "I'm starting to believe that cursed courier thing."

"Stow it," Gorobets said. "We've got to set up."

*.*.*

"All right, ladies and gentlemen, if we all cooperate, things will go as smooth as can be," the Ganger who seemed to be in charge called out. "We want your money, jewelry and any chems you got stashed away."

"And the booze," the one with the big mustache called. The others laughed. There were eight of them, three going around taking things from the partygoers, four just holding guns on them, and the leader standing near the bar, watching the whole room.

"There's nothing but old bitches!" the ganger with the mustache yelled as he ripped a necklace off an older woman.

"Shut up and get back to work," the leader yelled back as he kept his gun on Clarke Williams. The mayor looked like he was about to blow his top. This was bad. Layla didn't have a weapon, but she had to believe a few of these people had guns tucked away. Even so, everyone looked too scared to move.

Merritt. Where was he? Looking around, she couldn't spot the ranger anywhere. That was good; he was probably planning something.

"Well well well," the ganger with the mustache said as he approached Katie. "Looks like it ain't all old broads."

The girl gave him a cool glare as he walked up to her.

"You keep away from her!" Mayor Williams shouted from further up the line. The leader walked over and punched him in gut.

"Shut up, Pops," he said while the older man sputtered for air.

Mustache reached out and grabbed at Katie. The girl backed up, evading his grasp. The man made to reach for her again, but Layla had already moved in front of the younger woman.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own age bracket, you pervert," she growled. The Powder Ganger looked almost shocked at her, then grinned.

"Fine by me." He grabbed her arm, and Layla kicked him solidly between the legs. The ganger fell to his knees with a loud groan. Looking up, the Courier found the two who'd been collecting valuables coming for her. The gunmen were split between pointing their weapons on her and laughing.

"Uh, Katie, you don't keep a knife on you, do you?" Jackie asked, not looking away from the gangers coming her way.

"I… No."

The Courier nodded and set her feet. She was not going to make this easy for-

The loud boom of several high-powered shots rang out, accompanied by breaking glass and screams. The gunmen were down. As the two who'd been coming for Layla turned to see what happened, Merritt popped up from his hiding spot behind the bar and shot them both. The ranger quickly pivoted to shoot the leader down.

The ganger Layla had kicked got back to his feet and went for his gun. Layla barreled into him, making the shot he'd pointed at Merritt go wild. The ganger reached to grab her, but Layla dropped to the ground, hoping someone was lining up a shot on him.

Merritt seemed to take the idea and gunned the man down. There was a shocked silence in the room for a moment.

"That was some good work," Merritt said as he approached Layla, holding out a hand. She accepted it and stood.

"I just didn't want to get shot," she said icily to him. By now, Gorobets, Sterling and Bitter-Root had barged in.

"Is everyone okay?" the lieutenant called. Merritt waved.

"We're all right," he said, then looked down at the dead Powder Gangers. "Well, they aren't. But we are."

*.*.*

"I'm sorry about tonight," Darren said again as he and Layla made their way up the stairs of the saloon's porch. Jackie laughed.

"It wasn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have left you," he said. "If they'd hurt you or Kate…"

"You were getting drinks. I don't think anyone was expecting this mess." She smiled kindly at him. "It all worked out. No one important got hurt."

Darren nodded, still not looking happy. "I have to get back. My mother and sister are still pretty shaken up. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine," Jackie said. "You get used to that kind of thing in the Mojave. This had the bonus of pretty dresses."

Darren still looked serious. "Are you sure? My mother won't mind if we set up one of the guest rooms for you."

"I'll be all right," Jackie said firmly. "If I get spooked or something, I'll sit up with Wilber. Go home and make sure Katie's okay."

Darren nodded, then cracked half a smile. "I suppose it'd be silly to ask you if you had a good night?"

"It was great until the robbery."

The man laughed as he stepped off the porch. "I'll see you around town. Good night."

"Good night," Jackie said back, then watched as he left. She turned and walked into the saloon. It was surprisingly empty, but Layla had to figure people were freaked out by the Powder Ganger attack.

"There you are," Wilber called from the bar. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Jackie said. "I'm going to bed though. Feel free to fuss over me tomorrow as much as you like."

The bartender laughed. "I'll be sure to do just that. Go on and get some rest."

She gave him a wave as she made for the back hallway. Opening the door to her room, she stepped in and bent over to slip off her shoes before she'd even finished closing the door.

"Aaaah," she groaned at her now free feet. "Sweet foot freedom," she said for the benefit of whoever was listening to her tap. Probably Boone; he and Mitch hadn't responded to the party. Gorobets probably stuck them on the switching station to keep an eye out for Powder Ganger backup.

Her feet felt prickly as the blood came back to her squished toes, and she went to switch on the lamp. Before she reached it, someone grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth.

"It's me," Boone's voice rumbled in her ear, and she sagged in relief. She turned as he let her go, hands going to her hips.

"You scared me," she whispered.

"Sorry," he said quietly, moving up to her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answered, stepping up to lean against his chest. "All these attempts to harm me are starting to make me feel more at home."

Boone put his arms around her. "Good party?"

"I wished you'd been there," she answered. "And that I wouldn't have to pretend I hated you. That skunk Merritt showed up."

Boone gave her a half grin. She suddenly remembered her dress and stepped away to give it a twirl.

"Do you like it? Isn't it beautiful?" She looked up to find him giving her a hard-to-read expression. His face softened as he looked at her.

"Yeah." He moved closer, then reached around her back. Just as his lips touched her naked shoulder, she felt his hand find the zipper on her dress. Once it was down, she started when she felt him reach under her clothes.

There was an audible click, and Layla giggled as she realized he'd switched off the wiretap.

*.*.*

Even with the gag, the screams were annoying. There wasn't a proper way to silence someone that wasn't permanent, but usually she wasn't allowed to experiment. Her subjects usually needed the ability to speak. Not that any of them said anything that anyone wanted to hear.

Dr. Mary Dross turned off the generator and looked down at her subject.

"He won't last much longer," she said, disappointed. Vincent Caruthers was a middle-aged man who'd started slowing down his daily routines. That meant his muscles weren't tough enough to withstand very much damage. The prongs stuck into his skin fed an electrical current from the generator. The damage came slowly when the voltage was set low, but the pain was immediate.

Dross knew what it did to his body when the electricity was sent through. Matters of the flesh were no mystery; they were all laid out in medical tomes and old experiments. No, it was the mind that fascinated her. Caruthers had sworn up and down he hadn't spoken to the NCR about the Last Frontiersmen, something Dross believed, but he had to know he wouldn't survive this.

So what does a man do when he knows he'll be tortured to death? Everyone varied, but it usually came down to two categories: begging or acceptance.

Caruthers wasn't much fun, Dross thought glumly. He was old and soft and whiney. What she wouldn't give to have someone young and full of life. Taking out Caruther's gag, she spoke to the man.

"Do you want to tell us now?"

"I-I don't _know_ anything," he gasped. "I didn't talk!"

Dross shrugged and looked back at the two men watching. The New Frontiersmen's leader shook his head.

"He won't tell us anything important," Kreeder said as he stepped up to look at Caruthers. The mechanic's face remained neutral as he turned and started for the door. "Lansing, take care of the body when the doctor's done."

"You're the boss," the quarry worker said. The young man often stuck around for Dross' work. The others were usually too squeamish.

Dross turned back to the table and shook her head; this subject had been a disappointment. She didn't even feel like drawing things out, so she adjusted the power as high as it would go and opened the current.

Oh, the screams were annoying.

* * *

><p>I hope you all had a lovely Valentine's Day! See you on Saturday<p>

Oh, and somewhere along the last few chapters we went past the 350,000 word mark and the 100,000 view mark on this story. Which is very nice :3


	8. Sparrow Catching

Layla walked with a bounce in her step, even though it was muggy as hell. Her good mood probably had to do with Boone's unscheduled visit last night. She'd woken up to find him gone in the morning. He'd left a Fancy Lad cake on the dresser as a note.

Boone was a very lucky man that she didn't get offended easily.

As it was, she was now in high spirits and happy to get some work done. She'd decided to take an early shift at the store, freeing up her night. She had a mind to go rooting around Caruthers' place when it got dark to see if there was any evidence to his disappearance.

She was nearly to the sheriff's office to make a delivery; a small box with 'Fragile' written all over it. She was sad the party was over, even with all the excitement that had come from it. But she did have to admit it was kind of a relief to have things back to normal, as it was easier to pry into people's business when they were bored.

Layla opened the door to the sheriff's office, deciding to give the man a hard time to break the ice.

"Juarez, why is it exactly you can't pick up your own-" Layla stopped in the doorway. Mrs. Williams quickly stepped away from Sheriff Juarez, who she'd been lip-locked with a moment earlier, and made a show of fixing her skirt.

"Oh!" Layla could feel her cheeks turning red. "Uh, here's your… um, stuff. Please pay for it atthestorewhenyougetthechance!" she cried, dropping the package on the table and running back out the door.

"Euaagh," the girl groaned outside a few moments later. "I didn't want to have to see that."

*.*.*

Betsy sighed as she ambled up to the bar; this assignment had taken a turn for the boring. They always did at some point, though the sniper had hoped having Layla on board would mean things would stay interesting. But the day had gone on slowly; Betsy had given up on anything interesting going down once Layla had gone to take a nap.

Merritt had surprisingly offered to take Betsy's and Jack of Spade's surveillance shift on the switching station, so they'd gone with Sterling and Bitter-Root to the bar for a drink. So far that had been just as boring. She had half a mind to find some darts for the board, but that sounded like a lot of work.

"Beer and an atomic cocktail," she said as the bartender walked up to her.

"Right away, miss," he answered with a smile, then set about getting the drinks. Betsy looked out at the crowd with a sigh; there wasn't a looker in the whole town. Well, she wagered if she gave the Mayor's daughter five years, she'd be right up Betsy's alley. But that was five years from now.

"Lonely? I can take care that tonight," a voice said from her side, and Betsy had to keep from groaning.

"Scram, junior," she said to Lansing as he got far too close for her liking, "before I embarrass you in front of your friends."

The quarry worker held up his hands. "Hey, don't be like that. I bet you'll get to like me if you give me a chance."

"Maybe…" she started as the bartender set the drinks she ordered on the bar, "if you grew a rack and a clue."

"Hey now, let's not go cutting off an entire half of the population," Lansing said. "There's a whole world of guys who'd love to have a piece of you."

Betsy laughed as she shook her head. "You didn't really think that line was going to work, did you?"

"Worth a shot," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Hey, Lansing, why are you barking up the dyke tree!" came a shout from further in the bar. Betsy looked over to see a few of the other quarry workers sitting at a table.

"He said he was sick of having to suck you guys off," Betsy called back. All the men at the table immediately started frowning.

"Hey, don't mind them," Lansing said smiling broadly. "Sure you don't want to give dick one last try?"

"I'll live without it," she said, grabbing the drinks from the bar. Heading back to the table the others had been watching from, she set the cocktail in front of Spades. Bitter-Root made a disgusted face.

"How can you drink that?"

"Oh, exc-c-c-cuse me for liking a drink that actually tastes good," the younger man said tartly.

"It's got enough rads to grow you another arm," Sterling said, sounding disapproving.

"I don't have them very often," Spades said, starting to sound a little defensive.

"Anyway," Bitter-Root said, "Betsy, you agree with me about Mitch, right?"

"What about him?" the woman asked as she pried the cap off her beer with her belt buckle.

"That he's not cut out for this unit," the man replied. Betsy frowned, giving herself a few moments to think about it.

"It's too early to tell," she answered, then noticed Bitter-Root's scowl. "Hey, we thought you weren't cut out when you first showed up, and you turned around."

"You what?" the man cried, then looked at Sterling. "Is that true?"

"You kept calling me 'old man,'" the older man said with a shrug, "and I heard the 'brittle hip' comments."

Now Bitter-Root looked mad. Betsy knocked her elbow into him.

"Don't take it personally; you were a little more abrasive than we were used to. You grew on us."

His frown lessened somewhat at that. "I still don't know about Mitch."

"Give him time," Sterling said sagely. "They can't all be part of the 'farm-boy club.'"

Bitter-Root laughed at that; he'd coined the term when Boone had rejoined the unit. Gorobets had a soft spot for farmer's sons like himself. Betsy looked over to Jack of Spades, who was also part of that club, expecting him to be slightly embarrassed.

She frowned when she saw him; he looked sickly.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked.

"I don't know… Don't feel good."

Sterling was looking him over now. "Looks like that cocktail made him sick. Go get him some water."

Betsy got to her feet and started making her way back to the bar. Lansing suddenly appeared at her side as she walked.

"What's the rush, something wrong?"

"None of your business," she said stiffly. The man held up his hands.

"Hey baby, you're not looking so good. Why don't you come sit down." He motioned to the door leading to the back of the saloon.

She glared at him. "Telling a woman she looks bad isn't the best pick up line." The quarry worker gave her a strange look.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm starting to feel pissed off. What the hell's wrong with-"

"Spades!" Bitter-Root cried. Betsy looked over to see Jack of Spades slumped over, Sterling and Bitter-Root moving to try to revive him. And then it suddenly made sense.

"Looks like you guessed wrong," she growled, looking back at Lansing.

"I uh, what?" the man said. "What are you talking about?"

"Next time you drug a girl's drink, make sure you're drugging the right one."

"Mother _fucker!_" Bitter-Root had clearly heard their exchange. He jumped up and headed their way.

Lansing was starting to look pale as he approached.

"Listen, I think you're making a mistake," he babbled as Bitter-Root got closer. "I was only-"

Betsy socked him in the face, and the man staggered backward. Before he could recover, she punched him again, this time in the gut.

Bitter-Root hung back, looking at the group of quarry workers Lansing had been sitting with. "Get up and I'll fucking shoot you," he said. The group stayed seated.

Lansing had yet to raise a hand against Betsy, which was fine by her as she punched him in the mouth again. This time it dropped him.

"All right!" a voice boomed from the door. Betsy looked up to see the Sheriff and his deputy striding in. "He's got the picture."

"I don't think he's had enough of it," the woman growled.

"It'll have to do," Juarez said, moving over and grabbing the downed man by the collar to pick him up. "What's going on here?"

"Lansing tried to drug the lady," the bartender spoke up. "He ended up getting that one." He pointed at Spades, who was propped up against the wall. Juarez shook his head.

"All right, let's go put you in a cell for the night to think about it." He looked up at Betsy. "That okay with you?"

"It's fine by me, but if Spades doesn't like it, I'll send him over," the woman answered. Juarez nodded, and the deputy started dragging the man out of the bar. The saloon quieted down soon after. Turning back to the bar, Betsy saw the barkeep setting down a glass of water.

"I'm sorry about that ma'am," he said. "If I'd seen him do it…"

"Don't worry about it," Betsy said, accepting the drink and walking back to Sterling and Spades, Bitter-Root in tow.

"Oh, what a cockhole," she said, sitting back down and placing the water in front of Jack of Spades.

"He was lucky that sheriff came around," Sterling said. "Looks like you relieved him of a few teeth."

"No, he's lucky Boone wasn't around. Remember that time in New Reno?" she said to Sterling, who gave a low whistle. Once he'd noticed Bitter-Root's questioning look, he shook his head.

"A couple junkies got handsy with Bets..."

"That was back when Boone was about as green as you could get," Betsy laughed. "He was still all eager and polite."

"Boone?" Bitter-Root asked, incredulous.

"We didn't think he had it in him to beat the stuffing out of three guys on his own," Sterling continued, "but he proved us wrong. He never could stand someone mistreating a lady."

"Betsy, a 'lady'?" Bitter-Root asked incredulously. He ducked under Betsy's oncoming fist.

"W-w-w-what happened?" Jack of Spade slurred as he attempted to sit up.

"It's okay," Sterling said. "Betsy defended your honor."

"Oh… Good." He leaned back against the wall.

*.*.*

Mayor Williams sighed as he walked into the ballroom. Everything was just about back to normal after the party. The windows still needed to be replaced; they were just boarded up for now.

The sight might have angered him; those gung-ho snipers caused a lot of expensive damage, but he'd let it go. If they hadn't shown up, who knows what would have happened.

"Did that ranger take the opportunity to say he'd told you so?"

Clarke turned as he heard his son speak. The young man looked around the room with a faint frown.

"He was a bit more tactful than just coming out and saying it," the mayor answered.

Darren snorted. "I'm surprised he didn't rub your nose in it." He looked thoughtful for a moment before he continued. "I don't think any of us were prepared for the Mojave. Jackie acted like it was perfectly natural to get robbed in the middle of a party."

"These are wild lands," Clarke admitted, then grinned. "You're pretty sweet on Jackie, huh?"

The guarded look that came over his son wasn't a surprise; it was the face he was most used to.

"She's… nice. And not like the girls out of the NCR high-society."

"That's because she has to work for a living," Clarke grinned. "And she's got a mouth on her."

Now Darren was flat-out glaring at him. The elder Williams gave him a good-natured grin.

"Settling down with a nice girl like that is just the thing your mother and I would like to see you do. Instead of-"

"So that's what that dress was about, huh? Have you picked out a ring for her yet?"

"I can if you want me to," Clarke said, grinning further.

"You leave her alone and keep out of my business."

The elder Williams nodded distractedly.

"…Did you know that Vincent's gone missing?" Clarke asked casually, but carefully gauged his son's reaction. The younger man's face was neutral.

"I did."

"You wouldn't happen to have heard anything about it, would you?"

"No, sir," Darren said, using that guarded tone that immediately set Clarke off.

"He's incredibly important to this town," he said as his patience started to erode away.

"I'm sure the Crimson Caravan can send another representative if he doesn't show up," Darren said dismissively. He looked up at his father. "Seems to me having a talkative guy like Vincent shut up permanently would be a good thing for you."

"Darren," Clarke said warningly, "Vincent has been a friend of this family's for years." Darren had gone back to glaring openly at him.

"I've seen how you treat friends, father," he said stiffly. Clarke was about to answer when he noticed Katie standing near the door.

"Kate… I didn't see you there. How are you?" he asked. The girl gave him a sneer.

"Don't act like I didn't hear you. Either of you." Darren looked like was searching for something to say. Instead, he just threw up his hands and stalked off. Kate gave her father a final glare before leaving.

Mayor Williams sighed heavily before he started searching around for a bottle of whiskey.

*.*.*

Layla stepped out of her room with a yawn. That had been an excellent nap, thanks to the dip the temperature had taken. She saw thunderstorms in her future.

That suited her fine; she liked storms. Desert ones in particular were very exciting, and she starting thinking about scouting out a spot to go watch tonight. But, now that the sun was down, she'd probably sneak over to Caruthers' and peek around for evidence first.

She started for the saloon's main room when she remembered she hadn't turned her wiretap back on. Turning, she intended to go back to her room to switch it on in private when she found Boone at the end of the hallway. She leaned against the wall and gave him a nasty grin.

"Lost?"

He gave her a neutral scowl. Layla knew it wasn't prudent to stick around; anyone with a basic understanding of body language could probably see right through them. But this wasn't an opportunity she was going to waste.

"You soldier boys are always so good looking in your little uniforms." She stalked over, stopping just out of his reach. "But I hear you carry the big guns to compensate."

Now he was making that face he made when she teased him. It was stiffer than usual, probably because he wasn't supposed to engage her in public.

"Thanks for the cake," she whispered with a wink.

"Didn't want you to think the night was a waste," he responded quietly.

"Ganger attacks aren't really enough to ruin my night," she answered. "But you'll be happy to know that because of the confusion, I didn't have to to kiss Darren goodnight again," Layla added.

"You've kissed him?"

"On the cheek," the Courier said, noting his frown. "Craig Boone, are you jealous?" she whispered accusingly. "I thought we talked about this. And I thought you were okay with it?"

"I am," he said stiffly. Layla bit her lip to keep from smiling too much.

"Uh huh." Now she did let a smile spread on her face as she started walking by him, making sure to bump her hip into his. "Maybe I'll go see if Darren's busy tonight," she said airily. "He sure knows how to treat a lady."

Now Boone was definitely glaring at her. She crossed her arms over her chest making a point to squish her cleavage noticeably.

"Something wrong?" she asked, then changed her strategy by slowly undoing the top buttons of her shirt. "You look irritated."

She could almost hear something snap in the man as he reached out and grabbed her. He pressed her into the wall and had his mouth on hers in time to silence her giggles. She quickly broke off the kiss.

"Broom closet, broom closet," she whispered hurriedly. They rushed over to the door and squeezed into the tiny room.

"This is a really bad idea," Layla said breathlessly as she started loosening the belt on his armor.

"I know," Boone agreed. "Just keep quiet."

"You keep quiet," she laughed. "I'm not loud."

He silenced another giggle by kissing her as he started hiking up the fabric of her skirt. Layla suddenly found herself very happy with her hooker outfit.

*.*.*

Ranger Morton felt the last few strands of his patience about to snap as he led Gorobets down the hallway. The man trailing behind him was probably still giving him the same confused look he'd sported when the ranger had asked him to follow.

Morton had been heading to the bathroom when he saw the broom closet close after a puff of violent red hair had disappeared inside. It hadn't taken long to figure out what was happening. Coming to a stop in front of the closet, he faced the lieutenant.

"Would you please ask your subordinate to stop endangering the mission." he said tersely as he pulled the door open. The Courier and Specialist Boone were in the closet, partially clothed bodies entwined. The Specialist managed to slap a hand over the girl's mouth as she shrieked at the intrusion.

Gorobets closed the door quickly, took a breath, then sighed.

"Can I see you two in the Old Sloan office in ten minutes?" It wasn't a request by the man's tone. There was a pause before Boone's muffled answer filtered through the door.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading! Give a review if you get the chance and I'll see you on Wednesday!<p> 


	9. Stand the Gaff

Layla felt like she was going to throw up. It wasn't just because of how embarrassing it was to get caught in the act, or how likely both Morton and Gorobets got a good look at her ass. It wasn't even how she was about to get reamed for it. No, one look at the stony face Boone was making and she definitely felt like she was going to vomit out of guilt.

Betsy had told her that in all the years Boone had been with the unit, he'd only gotten in trouble if Manny had dragged him into it. Now she was the one doing it. Layla didn't often get in trouble either, not with authority or employers.

_You and your damn glands! Do you know how embarrassing it will be if we're pulled off an assignment because of your rampant libido and lack of sense? _Layla had to stop herself from responding to her own brain.

Gorobets had just left the room; they were waiting for Merritt to join them before they all had 'a talk.' She knew why. She was Merritt's problem.

This waiting was killing her. She glanced at Boone again. He was standing stock-still, clearly not happy. Layla bit her lip, trying to think of something to say. Before she did, she felt his hand close around hers. Looking up at him, she found his grim look had somewhat softened.

"Let me do the talking," he said, giving her hand a squeeze. Layla was about to say how strange that was coming from him when the door slammed open. She jumped, then tried to mimic Boone's 'attention' stance as Gorobets, Morton and Merritt entered.

All three looked grim. Well, Morton looked happy, actually. Layla squared her shoulders again and prepped her tongue for biting; she was not going to cry. Even if they yelled at her. A lot.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Gorobets said to Boone. "You could have blown the whole mission."

"I wasn't thinking, sir," Boone answered, going for brutal honesty. Gorobets shook his head.

"Well that's obvious. If I catch you two within ten yards of each other in public again, you won't be leaving this building until the mission's over."

"It's my fault," Layla blurted out before Boone could respond. The lieutenant turned her way, and she heard Boone's nearly unperceivable sigh. Gorobets fixed a hard stare on her.

"I uh…" She took a breath. "I kinda tricked him into it."

"He didn't look like he was under duress," Gorobets shot back, and Layla felt the blush start creeping up her neck. He turned a glare in Boone's direction. "You're due for your surveillance shift. Get moving."

Layla saw Boone hesitate, glancing her way.

"I said _get moving_."

Layla swallowed as her throat suddenly felt dry. She'd never heard that tone on Gorobets before.

"Yes, sir," he said automatically, but didn't move. Layla was pretty sure he didn't want to leave her to face her 'talk' alone.

"BOONE!" Gorobets barked. Boone sighed, shook his head and started to leave. He hesitated again at the door, looking back her way. Layla nodded to him, and he gave her a hard to read look before he disappeared into the night, closing the door behind him.

Taking a breath, she looked back at the group assembled and decided to take the non-military approach.

"I'm sorry, I know it was stupid. Very stupid. And it's not going to happen again." Oh, she was babbling. Bracing herself, she looked up to Merritt, who was giving her a frown.

"You could have easily been discovered, and you'd have a hell of a time explaining this one away," he said, sounding disappointed. That hurt more than yelling. "This was unprofessional and something I wouldn't expect from you."

Oh wow, he was going for the throat. The urges to cry and vomit were starting to creep up on her at the same time, and she bit her tongue to stave off the tears. Hopefully, it wouldn't encourage the vomit.

Merritt shook his head, his expression lightening. "But, I suppose no harm was done. So we'll overlook this." He gave her a cautioning look. "I don't want to regret using you for this mission."

Layla nodded, feeling her stomach twist painfully again. She noticed both Merritt and Gorobets smiling, and the doom feeling left the room.

"You damn kids," Gorobets said. "I never got caught when I was your age."

"Well you didn't have a ranger hunting you down!" Layla cried indignantly, now smiling.

"Wait a damn minute," Morton said, sounding furious. "That's it? You ought to take her off the mission."

"What good would that do?" Merritt said calmly. "She wasn't discovered, and she's making progress with the Frontiersmen."

"This pandering is going to have to stop sooner or later," the other ranger said. "I was content to stand by while you all made fools of yourself around her, but now she's starting to jeopardize this mission. That's where I draw the line." He looked in Layla's direction, sneering further.

"Oh you are a delicate little flower, aren't you? Well I don't have time for helpless princesses that need constant rescuing. You might get your kicks letting all the 'big strong men' protect you, but where I come from, we all pull our own weight. And that doesn't mean just making eyes at every man who passes by."

"Albert, that's going too far," Merritt said. "Apologize to Miss Granville." The other ranger didn't seem to hear him as he continued.

"You might have been able to shake your ass enough to get the Williams boy clamoring after you, but I'm not having a mission I worked months to prepare for ruined by one idiot tramp."

Layla's mouth dropped open, and she fumbled for something to say in her defense. Before she got the chance, Gorobets threw a punch to the man's face, dropping him.

Layla put a hand over her mouth in shock. Gorobets straightened, then turned her way.

"You'd better get back into town." He glanced at Morton, who was starting to get back to his feet. "She'll be expecting that apology."

Layla looked over to Merritt, who had a stern look on his face as he leaned over to check Morton.

"Are you okay?" He asked. The other ranger looked angry, but not as much as Layla expected.

"Oh just fine." He glared at Gorobets.

"Let's all calm down," Merritt said. "Lieutenant, take Miss Granville outside. I'll have a talk with Albert."

She didn't resist as Gorobets lead her out.

*.*.*

"Mother of God!" Betsy cried. "We leave you in the room with them for three minutes, and Gorobets ends up socking a ranger?"

Layla's head was in her hands. "Is Gorobets going to be in trouble?"

"I doubt it," Sterling said. "Merritt thought the whole thing was justified, and he's the one in charge."

"Won't Morton file a report or a complaint or something?" the Courier asked, certain she'd get Gorobets court-martialed because she couldn't keep it in her pants.

"I'm sure he'll try, but rangers are always punching each other out." The man shrugged. "Comes with the territory. They're all used to working alone. Get them in a group, and it comes to fists all the time."

"But Gorobets isn't a ranger," Layla said anxiously as she looked up at him.

"Doesn't matter, and it's not like Morton's his commanding officer." He smiled good-naturedly at the girl. "Don't worry. Merritt will smooth it over."

"I hope so," she moaned, then looked up at the others gathered around her. "You guys don't think I'm a helpless princess who needs constant rescuing, do you?"

"You only need occasional rescuing, princess," Betsy answered.

Layla put her head back in her hands and groaned.

*.*.*

Bitter-Root hated the morning shift. Nothing ever happened, and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. Sometimes he thought he wasn't patient enough to be a sniper, but that was bullshit. Sniping was what he lived for. That meant sucking it up for the morning stakeout up on the switching station.

Sterling was lying next to him on the ridge overlooking New Sloan, eye to his scope. There wasn't much to look at this early, but people were starting to move around the town.

"What did Spades end up doing about that asshole quarry worker?" Bitter-Root asked. "I never saw him again last night."

"To tell you the truth, I think he forgot about it after Boone and Layla got chewed out," the older man said over his rifle.

Bitter-Root snorted at that. "That was some dress down… Wish I got to punch Morton too."

"He did need to get taken down a few pegs," Sterling said, "but Boone was taking a big risk on getting caught."

"Oh come on," Bitter-Root said, peering over his gun to his partner. "Haven't you ever done something stupid for the sake of some tail?"

There was silence for a few moments, then the older man spoke again. "Did I ever tell you how I met Marlene?"

"This is going to be gross, old people sex, isn't it?" Bitter-Root asked.

"We weren't old then."

"Save it, Old Man, I don't want to hear how you nearly broke a hip on your first date."

Sterling said something back to him, but Bitter-Root didn't hear it as he felt a painful sting on his leg. Yelping, he looked back to see what it was. There were mini-scorpions crawling up his leg. He caught sight of more pouring out of an overturned box next to the switching station.

Sterling was already on his feet. "Get up, before more get on you."

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" Bitter-Root cried as he got to his feet and started slapping the little monsters off his pants. "Do we have a flame thrower?"

"Fresh out," Sterling said as he backed away from the mass of bugs. He pulled the radio off his belt.

"Home base, this is team one. The northern watch is compromised. We're coming back."

"What's the problem?" Gorobets' voice crackled over the radio.

"We've got scorpions all over the place," Sterling said as he moved over to the box the creatures were crawling out of. "Looks like we were sabotaged."

*.*.*

Smithy was nearly in tears when Jackie came running back into the store, binoculars around her neck.

"It worked!" she cried, and the old man started laughing harder.

"W-what happened?" he asked between gasps.

"They were sitting there looking out at the town. The one got up and started flailing around," Jackie laughed as well. Secretly, Layla was very glad Sterling hadn't been stung by the scorpions, though she did feel bad about Bitter-Root. She'd snuck the box up very late last night, right before the morning shift took over. Night shift never waited for the morning shift before they left. Powder Gangers weren't known for waking up early.

The general store owner had asked her why she'd been looking out the window all morning. Once Layla had filled him in on her trickery, he'd demanded she keep a look out. Smithy would tell everyone who didn't like the NCR about this little endeavor, just what Layla was hoping for.

Smithy finally caught his breath. "All right, all right," he coughed and stood up straight again. "let's get working… That new Crimson Caravan idiot should be in town soon."

Jackie nodded and started gathering her deliveries for the day.

*.*.*

This lock was being a bastard.

Layla was determined to get some work done on this case. She did have to admit she wanted to assuage some of the guilt of her earlier… indiscretion. Just thinking about it made her stomach turn. She dearly hated being in trouble. And though it was over, she'd keep driving herself crazy over it for a while.

She shook the thought away. She had to get back to the situation at hand. She'd gotten a lot better at popping locks in the last few months, so she'd taken a moment between deliveries to sneak into Caruthers' house. After a few more seconds of fiddling, the door opened.

"Still got it," she whispered. "Taking a quick peek into Caruthers' place," she added for the benefit of whoever was on the tap.

Quickly banishing the guilty feeling that tried to gnaw at her, she crept into the building and looked around. It hadn't been disturbed much. Layla had expected to find it tossed for clues. Juarez must have only given the place a quick glance.

The filing cabinets were full of order forms, both filled out and blank. Nothing strange in any of them. There was a safe on the wall, but she couldn't get it open, so she sat at the desk and set to work on the computer.

Layla was much better at sneaking around computer systems, and it didn't take much work to get in. Most of the files were Crimson Caravan data: order records, money, and a little information on trade routes in the area.

It wasn't until she found a file tucked in the orders that things got interesting. She spotted Williams' name on a few of the special orders and took a closer look to see how much the candy from California had cost. What she found instead was a cryptically-worded entry on a very expensive order.

"Got something for Clarke Williams…" she said for the tap's sake. "Nearly ten grand worth of caps for one order…" She looked at the numbers and letters for a moment, trying to guess their meaning. It didn't take long to realize she was looking at ammo calibers.

"Oh," Layla said out loud as she realized there were too many caps involved for just ammo. "Williams put in a huge gun order three months ago."

Curious, she went back to a file she'd spotted that tracked monthly profits. The ten thousand dollar transfer wasn't marked.

"And it was off the record," she added, hoping that was helpful. She reached for her left arm to download the files onto her Pip-Boy and cursed when she realized it wasn't there.

"You boys are going to have to get copies of these files yourselves," she murmured into the microphone as she shut the computer down and crept back out of the house.

It was muggy again today, which was good; no one wanted to mill around town while it was gross out. Starting back toward the general store, she figured she'd made a clean break when she heard someone calling for her.

"Jackie!" Darren waved as he ran up to her. She thought for a moment that she'd been caught, but he had a smile on his face.

"I need to get you alone," he said as he got closer.

"I… oh um, well, I…" Layla mumbled. She hadn't expected him to be so forward and wasn't prepared for it. "I don't know if I'm really, uh, you know ready?"

Darren looked at her strangely for a moment, then slapped his forehead.

"No! No, that's not what I meant." He leaned in closer. "It's something else. But it's very important."

It suddenly dawned on her that he was probably referring to the Last Frontiersmen.

"Oh, okay then. Um, lead the way."

"No, we can't move openly," he said, glancing over her head. "Those snipers are still keeping an eye on the town." He gave her a grin. "Looks like the scorpions have cleared out."

"What do you want to do, then?" she asked.

"Meet me in the quarry when you get off work," he said quietly. "If you follow the path behind the houses, they can't see you. Come alone."

Well, there went her sniper cover if he was just pulling a fast one on her.

"What is this about?" Jackie asked, wanting to be sure about the situation before she went barreling off on her own.

"Keeping the Mojave independent might not be so hopeless," he answered. "I've got some people I'd like you to meet."

Jackie nodded. "That… sounds great. I'll see you at the quarry."

Darren's face broke into a smile. "Great, I'll see you then."

Layla watched him walk away before heading back to the store.

"I guess the scorpions worked," she murmured to the wiretap.

*.*.*

Later that night, Layla slipped out of the window of her room. She could admit she was nervous. Very nervous. There was so much for her to remember: Jackie didn't know about the New Frontiersmen already; Jackie wouldn't be shocked when she saw who from town was in the group; and finally, if they found the wiretap, she was screwed.

Thinking about what would happen if she got caught didn't help her nerves. In every comic book and pulp novel she'd ever read, anyone wearing a wiretap was always discovered. Every time. And none of them fared well when they were found out. 1st Recon and the rangers would probably hear if something went awry… but that didn't mean they'd get to her in time.

Layla stopped to lean against the back wall of a house. She needed to get her head on straight or she'd never get through this meeting.

_Decide right now if you're going to do this. If you aren't, march back to Old Sloan and tell Merritt you quit. If you are, accept that it's going to be dangerous and get moving,_ her brain said calmly. Layla sighed, then made her choice; she was going to do this and do it right. Squaring her shoulders, she walked into the quarry.

A few steps in, and she had to hold back a nervous laugh; she'd caught herself being extra careful and quiet to avoid the deathclaws that were no longer there. She'd only walked a few yards into the quarry when she saw someone waving for her. She hurried over and was relieved to find Darren smiling at her.

"I was a little worried you wouldn't come," he said as she approached.

"There was no way I was going to turn this down," Jackie said with a grin. "Independence mixed with a little mystery? You know how to reel a girl in."

Darren grinned, but his expression turned serious.

"I've got to tell you a few things before I take you in."

"Okay," she answered, managing to tamp down the quick burst of nerves that'd surfaced.

"First… you need to know about the group. We're activists against the NCR."

Jackie nodded, and he continued. "And we've taken a… direct approach to our protests."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… we've been disrupting NCR operations in the area. Some people are calling us terrorists."

"Oh." She'd figured he wouldn't come out and say they'd been murdering troops and kidnapping Crimson Caravan workers. "Well, I came this far. I want to hear what you've got to offer."

Darren smiled. "I'm glad you're interested. We-"

"Darren," a voice hissed from the other side of the door, "get in already before someone sees you!"

The man opened the door, holding it for Jackie. She stepped inside to find a small group of people looking at her.

Lansing and Pudd didn't surprise her, but she hadn't expected Kreeder. She gave Lansing a cool look and managed to remain neutral otherwise, though she was curious as to why his face was bruised up so badly.

"Darren has told us about your… dislike for the NRC," Kreeder said, making Jackie smile.

"I think I've made that clear to most of the town."

"Yes," the engineer continued. "I'm curious about how far your dislike goes."

"Darren mentioned you guys are actually doing something about them trying to muscle in on the Mojave," Jackie said, "and I'm all for that."

"Yes, well, we have been taking measures beyond children's pranks," the man continued.

Jackie shrugged. "I'll be the first to tell you what I did was silly. But I'm willing to hear better plans."

Kreeder looked thoughtful for a moment. "What we're about to tell you is a secret, one we guard very carefully. If you don't like what you hear, you let us know and then never speak of this again."

Jackie nodded, and Kreeder continued.

"At first, we had planned to protest the NCR's presence peacefully, but it's become clear the Mojave was beyond peace. We're not giving up our homes or freedoms, no matter the cost. We have a plan worked out, and I think you will be useful in it."

"What do you want me to do?" Jackie asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"We'll get to that eventually. For now, you're on a probation period. No one here knows you more than the few days you've been here. So we'll give you a few smaller things to do. If you prove your loyalty, then we'll discuss our plans.

"Okay… that make sense," Jackie answered, then looked around the room they were in. "I take it this isn't the real meeting spot?"

Kreeder nodded, looking slightly impressed. "You'll see the real thing when I trust you not to go shooting your mouth off about us. For now, go back to your work. We'll contact you."

"Okay," Jackie answered. Kreeder smiled slightly.

"Good, and welcome to the New Frontiersmen."

* * *

><p>Ugh, I over did it for Mardi Gras. I hope everyone celebrating had a good time! If you don't celebrate it, you're missing out D:<p> 


	10. Slick as a Whistle

"You're spoiling me, Wilber," Jackie said as the man set a plate of grilled cactus fruit in front of her.

"Don't say that until you've tasted it," the bartender replied. Jackie had struck up a deal with the bartender: she didn't have to pay for meals if she tried out his new creations. Some had yielded delicious results, like yesterday's mantis bisque. The boiled coyote sandwich hadn't been so good.

She bit into the grilled fruit and chewed thoughtfully.

"Well?" Wilber asked expectantly.

"I don't know if everyone's gonna go for it" the girl said, "but I think it's excellent."

He smiled broadly, "I'm glad you like it."

"I do."

"Well, I guess I'll let you finish your meal in peace," Wilber said.

"Thanks again," Jackie said with a smile.

"Not a problem, Miss Jackie."

Layla watched the man walk off and went back to her breakfast. It really was good; once this was all over, she was going to have to coax the man into giving her some of his recipes.

As she contemplated, Surly Li came up to her.

"Good morning," Jackie said with a smile. "You're up early."

"Yeah, I've got you to thank for that," the other woman answered with a frown. She placed a folded note on the table and left. Confused, Layla picked up the paper and unfolded it.

'_Outside the quarry at noon.'_

Layla tamped down a burst of anxiousness; she had her first terrorist assignment.

*.*.*

Pudd was waiting for her at the entrance to the quarry. He looked just as nervous as she felt.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked. The man grimaced.

"I don't know what I did to piss off Kreeder, but we're going to go snoop on that pack of snipers."

"We are?" Jackie asked, confused. "Aren't they going to notice us?"

"They might," Pudd shrugged as he lit a cigarette. "Kreeder thinks they've got some of the town bugged. We need to see if they have any listening equipment."

"Oh." Layla felt her stomach drop into her knees. "How many are there right now?"

"We know one group is at that post they've set up by the old railroad station. Two just went into town a while ago."

"What's that leave?" Jackie asked, even though Layla damn well knew.

"Five."

"How the hell are we going to sneak in with a bunch of snipers and rangers hanging around?"

"I don't _know_," Pudd said irritably. "Kreeder said part of your test was figuring it out."

Oh, that was just wonderful. Layla took a breath and thought for a moment. Whoever was on the tap just heard that. If she spelled out the plan, they'd know how she and Pudd would move and work with it.

Except if the plan worked out, they'd find out about the bug. That wouldn't be good. She was going to have to figure out a way to fail, but still look good doing it.

An inkling of an idea starting forming, but it was going to be tricky.

"Okay," she said. "We're going to walk by casually. If no one's visible, we'll sneak around the buildings."

Pudd nodded, but didn't look happy as he dropped his cigarette and stamped it out. They left the quarry and were soon approaching the encampment.

"See anything?" Jackie whispered. The man shook his head.

"No, they must be inside."

"Good, come on." They hopped over the fence leading to the buildings, and Layla led the way around the machine shop. She quickly peeked in through a window and found it empty.

"This one's clear," she whispered, looking around the building's interior. "None of this is listening equipment, I'm pretty sure."

Pudd looked as well. "I think you're right. Let's keep moving."

Layla nodded and headed for the bunk house. This wasn't going to be as easy. She peeked up, then ducked her head down again.

"Looks like most of them are in there," she whispered. Pudd nodded.

"Let's keep moving," Jackie said, and they continued. Now they were reaching the office, and the real trouble.

"Now would be a bad time to get caught," she said, hoping someone listening to the tap got the idea. Pudd merely nodded as they got close to one of the cracks in the building to peer in.

"What are you doing here?"

Layla turned to see Merritt facing them, pistol drawn. She saw Pudd reaching for his own gun and grabbed his wrist.

"We were looking for you," Jackie said, sounding annoyed.

Merritt gave them an undisguised look of suspicion. "Well, you found me, what do you want?"

"We heard you people were planning on enforcing a curfew for the town," she said, trying to sound angry. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Merritt looked confused. "There isn't any-"

"You assholes just come in here and act like you own the place," Jackie snarled. "We don't want you here."

The ranger shook his head. "I'm sorry you feel that way, miss. But for now, the mayor is letting us use this camp, and that makes it a restricted area. You should go."

Jackie glared a moment longer, then turned. "Come on, Pudd."

The man looked amazed as he scrambled after her.

*.*.*

"I thought we were gonna get arrested at the least," Pudd said, laughing. "She just gave him some bullshit line about being pissed off about a curfew and he let us go!"

The gathered group laughed as Pudd finished his report. Kreeder found himself impressed. He liked to give impossible jobs to new members; most of the time it scared away people who weren't committed and got rid of the ones not clever enough to think on their feet.

Jackie had surprised him though. He'd expected to have to bail Pudd out of jail. Instead, they'd come out unscathed. It looked like the girl might actually become a viable member of the group.

Darren patted Jackie on the back, giving her a smile. The girl gave him a slightly embarrassed look and ran a hand through her hair. Kreeder had to keep himself from reacting noticeably at what he saw. It couldn't be… He had to be sure.

"You've got our thanks, Jackie," he said to the girl, purposefully putting warmth in his voice. "It looks like you might be just what we've been looking for."

She smiled, red starting to show on her cheeks. She did it again, ran her hand through her hair. It was probably a nervous tick from embarrassment. Probably a new one too; she must not have realized what she was doing. Mussing her hair briefly revealed a scar on her head, one that looked like an old bullet wound.

He might have passed it off as a coincidence; bullet wounds were very common in the wastes. Bullet wounds to the head were not. Beyond that, Craig Boone's unit just happened to be stationed in town.

No, Kreeder was fairly certain now; 'Jackie' was Layla Granville, the Courier.

*.*.*

"Why are we here?" Boone asked Mitch as they strode up to the door of the Mayor's house. The sniper didn't want to end up face-to-face with Darren Williams. It wasn't like he couldn't control himself, but it was always best to avoid temptation. Especially because putting a fist between the man's eyes would cause a few questions he didn't want to come up with answers for.

"Mrs. Williams has been hounding Merritt to send some of us over, so he told me to take you and go."

"Why doesn't Gorobets do this?" Boone muttered. Meet-and-greets were a particular hell on earth he'd rather avoid.

"Probably because he didn't want to, and we're low men on the totem pole."

Boone had to fight back the urge to point out that Mitch was the rookie. It didn't matter; he was pretty sure Gorobets was still mad with him. This might be a good way to make up for his… misstep.

Mitch knocked on the door, and a moment later a teenager answered. Katie, the mayor's daughter, Boone remembered.

"Hello. Can I help you?" she asked coolly.

"Your mother called for us, princess," Mitch answered, giving her a grin. Boone could feel the temperature in the desert go down a few degrees from her reaction.

"I'll see if she still wants you," the girl answered, slamming the door closed. Mitch looked back at him, and Boone merely shook his head.

A few moments later, the door opened again. Mrs. Williams answered this time.

"Why hello," she said, smiling a little too widely. "Please, come in."

"Thank you, ma'am," Mitch said, walking into the house as the woman held the door open. Boone followed, feeling more and more uneasy about this whole set up.

"Please, call me Joanne," the Mayor's wife laughed. "You're going to make me feel like an old woman." She led them to a sitting room and turned back, smiling predatorily.

"Oh uh… thanks, Joanne," Mitch said, starting to sound uncomfortable as well.

"Have you boys had lunch?" she asked. "I always like to entertain any soldiers who come to my town, both here and back in California."

"We eat early," Mitch said quickly, clearly starting to pick up on the woman's intentions. Boone had to hold back a grin. Watching the other man squirm was starting to get amusing.

"Oh, too bad," she pouted, then perked up. "Well, we'll just have to have a nice little talk." She sat on a couch and patted the spot next to her. "Come have a seat."

Mitch turned a slightly panicked look on Boone, who shrugged. The other man swallowed, then moved over to the woman and sat. She moved to put a hand on his knee, and the spotter shot out of his seat.

"I uh, you have a real nice place," he all but squeaked.

"Thank you," Williams purred.

Fun was fun, but this was getting out of hand. Boone wasn't the best at making smooth social getaways, but they probably needed to cut this short before Williams started getting grabby. Just as he was trying to come up with an excuse, he saw Katie Williams waving at him from the door. Judging by the look on her face, whatever she wanted was serious.

Glancing back at his partner, Boone found the man starting to look nervous as Mrs. Williams kept advancing on him. Good, that would cover his departure.

Once he started heading her way, the girl disappeared back into the hallway. Stepping out of the sitting room, Boone found her walking down the hall and followed her.

She stopped near another door and waited for him to catch up.

"Hurry up," she hissed quietly, then opened the door and stepped in. Following, Boone found himself in what had to be the girl's bedroom. The walls were pale pink, and all the furniture was delicate-looking; reminding him how inappropriate it was for him to be here.

"Look," he said sternly, "you're way too young and I've got a girlfriend-"

"Oh stuff it," the girl said. "This isn't about that. I've got something important to show you."

She caught the distrusting look on his face, and sighed. "Why is it men immediately assume it's about sex? Look, I have information on the New Frontiersmen."

"What?" That he hadn't been expecting.

"It's better if I show you," she answered. "As soon as we're done here, go get your partner and meet me outside. I'll sneak out through my window."

Boone hesitated for a moment. Her brother was one of the terrorists; it wasn't hard to believe he'd have the girl set up a trap. Katie sighed again.

"I'm not going to wait long. Now get out before you're caught in here."

*.*.*

"Can't you stay for dinner?" Mrs. Williams said. "You know, my husband isn't going to be back from the Crimson Caravan office until late tonight."

"Uh…" Mitch glanced around for a way out. He'd noticed Boone had bailed on him a few minutes ago. So much for partners looking out for each other.

"I'm going to have to go soon," he sputtered out. He was all for cougars, but god damn, this woman was way too forward for his tastes. She was the kind of woman who wasn't going to be happy with just a quick tussle and go.

"I'm sure you can make some kind of excuse," Williams said as she moved closer. Yep, this was definitely a tie-you-down-and-whip-out-the-strap-on type.

"Mitch," Boone's voice rang out, and the spotter nearly sagged in relief. Looking over he found his partner making a grim face.

"We've got to go."

Mitch nodded and beat a hasty retreat from Mrs. Williams.

"Sorry, Ma'am, I've got orders," he said as he quickly made his escape. The woman was giving him and Boone a cool look.

"Fine, go. But don't forget what you missed today."

Mitch hurried after Boone as he left the room. "All I missed today is the chance for Mayor Williams to wave a shotgun at me," he muttered.

"Don't think he cares," Boone said as they left the house.

"What was that about?" Mitch questioned. "Or did you suddenly feel bad for leaving me out to dry?" Boone didn't answer until they were further away from the house.

"The Williams girl, Katie, she's got something we need to see."

"Man, what's with this family? How old is she again?" He paled slightly at the look Boone gave him.

"She's got information on the terrorists."

"Ooooh," Mitch nodded. "I see."

As they continued around the house, they found the girl waiting.

"Good, come on, we have to move quickly." She looked around the empty streets, then started hurrying east. "If we're caught, I don't even know what'll happen."

"Do you know about your brother?" Boone asked.

"I… Yes. The Frontiersmen weren't always about doing damage. Once they changed, a few people quit, but Darren stayed on. I don't know why."

The man seemed to take her word at that. Mitch wasn't so sure. They continued out of town toward the mountain to the east.

"Okay, we're going to have to be careful," Katie said. "There's a super mutant over here-"

"Neil?" Boone asked. "He's harmless." Both Mitch and Katie gave him surprised looks.

"Well, let's see if we can avoid him anyway," Katie said. "I don't know if he's working with them-"

"He isn't," Boone said firmly. "He works for Jacobstown."

Katie was still frowning. "We shouldn't let anyone see us. It might get back to them that someone was looking around.

That was a good point, and Boone nodded, waiting for her to continue. They moved away from the road and climbed up over a ridge.

"I think they dug out a spot over here somewhere…" Katie said, and they started searching.

*.*.*

It took longer than Boone would have liked to find the bunker, and they'd been lucky; Mitch had tripped over the entrance. Someone had covered it with a sheet of wood which was in turn covered with dirt. Underneath, they'd found a set of storm doors, secured with a padlock.

"Let me," Mitch said, bending down to look at it as he pulled a bobby pin and a screwdriver from his pockets. A few, curse-filled moments later, he got the lock off.

Boone bent over to help him pull the door open, and they found a set of metal stairs leading down to a cavern.

"That looks big," Mitch said.

"I'll take point," said Boone, and his partner nodded.

"Katie, go after Boone. I'll watch our backs."

The girl moved up behind Boone as he slowly made his way down, drawing his machete. The cavern appeared to be free of traps or people. It wasn't empty though.

"Holy shit," Mitch gaped at the three racks of weapons along the walls. There were a few trunks full of ammo as well. Boone looked through the weapons; there was enough here to arm the whole town. It looked like they were well-cared for too.

"Oh shit, look at this," he heard Mitch cry. He walked over to find his partner looking at something half-cobbled together on a workbench.

"They're making a bomb," the other man said, looking over the pile. "But I've never seen one like this."

"Chlorine bomb," Boone said, then noticed his partner's confused face. "Saw one on the Strip once."

"What are we going to do?" asked Mitch.

"We need to get back to base."

"We'd better get out of here soon," Katie piped in. "I-"

"Wait, did you hear that?" Mitch said. Boone turned, pulling his machete again as he heard the clinking of a metal object hitting the floor. Before he could move, something exploded.

He'd expected a concussive blast, but instead found smoke rolling out from a canister as he spotted it.

"Tear gas," he called to Mitch. "Move!"

His partner grabbed Katie's hand and started running as Boone took point again. They were running toward whoever had thrown the gas can, but if they stayed in the bunker, they'd be incapacitated quickly.

Boone cleared the opening of the cave just as his eyes started watering. He could hear Mitch and Katie coughing behind him.

As they barreled out of the cave, he found two men waiting for them, weapons aimed in their direction.

"Drop the knife, tough guy," said Lansing. Boone thought about lunging for the man, but he'd get gunned down before he made contact.

The effects of the tear gas were getting worse, and he started coughing as it got harder to breathe. One of the gunmen had walked up to him; he couldn't make out who as his eyes watered and he doubled over coughing. He felt hands on his arms and swung his machete in their direction.

He heard a cry, then laughter as something hard was slammed over his head. He groaned and collapsed as his legs gave out. Boone could just make out hands reaching for him as his vision faded.


	11. See How the Cat Jumps

Happy Leap Day, people! Do something fun on your extra this year :D

* * *

><p>Something was off. Layla could sense it. It didn't take long in a small town to get a feel for the place. She gazed out along the main road from the saloon's porch, watching people go about town as the afternoon continued. Everyone seemed to be hurrying more than usual.<p>

Jackie had the day off. Smithy had shooed her out and told her to relax. She'd taken his advice and lazed for a while on the porch.

The Courier noted with some interest that Dr. Dross had emerged from her building. The doctor didn't often leave unless someone was hurt. She wasn't rushing, so Layla figured she wasn't on an emergency call.

"Afternoon, sweet cheeks," she heard Lansing say as he ambled up to railing. Layla fixed a glare at the man. Finding out he was involved with the Frontiersmen hadn't been much of a shock, but now she had to deal with him directly.

"Lansing," she said icily, "shouldn't you be at work?"

"Trouble at the quarry," the man said simply, making Layla frown.

"Oh? Is that were Dr. Dross is going?"

"What? Oh, no. She's going to Primm," the man answered.

"That's a long way to go on her own."

"She does it every now and then. Something about the old guy who runs the courier place."

Layla actually had to bite her tongue to keep from asking about Mr. Nash. Lansing didn't seem to notice as he continued.

"I guess the old guy's poorly, needs be seen regularly and only wants to see Dross."

Now that was confusing. Mr. Nash was healthier than a horse, and certainly didn't care about who tended to him if something came up. Layla herself had treated the man for a coyote bite once.

She couldn't question Lansing about it, but the whole story was very strange. She figured it could be just Lansing screwing up the facts, but she'd have to check in with her old boss when she got done with this mission. Just to be sure.

"Anyway," Lansing said with a smile, "that isn't why we're off today. There was a little trouble with the equipment again."

"Oh, that's too bad," Jackie said, going back to watching the town.

"Yeah, so…" The man made a point to look around before speaking to her again. "I know you're supposed to be in the dark about what's going on… but I can let you in on a few things."

Between the way he'd said that and the way he was looking at her, she felt like punching him. She didn't bother hiding the venom in her voice.

"I'm sure I'll find out when I'm supposed to." Sure, she could have tried to goad it out of him with some flirting, but she wasn't going to play the creep's game.

"Sure you will." He climbed over the railing in a quick, smooth motion. Before she could retreat, he leaned in close.

"You showed up at a real good time, baby," he said into her ear. Jackie grimaced and tried to sidestep him, but he put his hand against the wall behind her, blocking her way.

"Back off," she growled at him.

"Hold on, you're gonna like this," he said and leaned in. "We've got a bomb all ready for that NCR base on the Long 15."

"I… You what?" Layla aborted the kick she'd been winding up for Lansing's crotch. The man was smiling broadly.

"I knew that'd get your attention." He leaned in again. "We're gonna sneak up tonight and plant it right under those fucker's skirts."

Oh shit. She had to do something, besides getting away from this creep before whoever was on duty blew his head off; if she could get herself on this mission, she could sabotage it.

"Kreeder wants you to come up to the base tonight," Lansing continued, further surprising her. "Be at the quarry at seven."

She nodded, then noticed the man had looped an arm around her.

"Lansing, let me go or I'm going to-"

"Give up the ice queen routine already," he said with a toothy smile. "Kreeder isn't going to like hearing we don't get along."

"I don't care. _Let me go_."

"Is there a problem?" a voice said from their side, startling them both. Looking over, Layla had to keep the relief from her face wen Merritt stepped onto the porch.

Lansing let her go quickly. "It doesn't concern you."

"I'm afraid it does," the ranger said sternly, looking at Layla. "I need a word with you concerning yesterday."

Remembering herself, Jackie stuck her chin out. "Am I under arrest?"

"No, but you need to answer a few questions for me. If you want me to arrest you, I will."

"Fine, let's go," she said poisonously. She glanced at Lansing, who grinned at her.

"Remember; seven o'clock tonight."

Stepping off the porch, she followed as Merritt led her down the road.

"What was that about?" he asked quietly.

"We need to talk, now," Layla answered. "We've got trouble."

The ranger opened the door to the sheriff's office and held it for her. Layla walked in to find Juarez, but not O'Bann in the room.

"Sheriff," Merritt said in greeting, and the other man nodded. Layla bit her lip, trying to think of a way to mention that she need to speak privately with the ranger.

"Juarez knows about our arraignment," Merritt said, circumventing her worry.

"Oh… I didn't know that," Layla blurted out. She shook her head. "Listen, Lansing just told me what the Frontiersmen are planning."

"What is it?" The ranger looked surprised.

"They've made a bomb. They're bringing it up to the NCR base on the Long 15."

The ranger looked grim. "We're going to have to stop them." He shook his head. "This couldn't have come at a worse time."

"Why?" the Courier asked, not liking the apologetic look he was giving her. "What happened?"

"Boone and Mitch never came back to base yesterday. They've missed their surveillance and wiretap shifts."

"W-what?" She looked at Juarez. "Has there been any sign of them?"

The sheriff shook his head. He looked like he was about to speak when the door to the building was violently thrown open.

"Juarez!" Mayor Williams cried, "Kate is missing."

*.*.*

Ranger Morton knew this was going to happen; the mission was falling apart. He did admit that it was just bad timing with the bomb. They had to respond to it, but it would probably end in them eliminating the group instead of getting a chance to get more information on other terrorist cells.

They were lucky Merritt had been able to keep the Mayor from kicking them out of town; Williams had jumped to the conclusion that their missing snipers were to blame for his daughter's disappearance. Morton was fairly certain whatever had happened to the snipers had befallen the girl as well, but he knew they weren't the cause.

Given the timing, he wagered the Last Frontiersmen were involved. He might have suspected the powder gangers, but he was fairly certain Merritt had taken out the regional leader during the attack on the mayor's party.

He didn't like this; too much was happening all at once. Granville's acceptance into the terrorist cell, the plans to bomb the Long 15 military base and the disappearances had all occurred on the same day. His gut told him something wasn't adding up, but he couldn't figure out what.

"Albert, are you going to be all right by yourself? I can have Team Two stay…" Merritt said as he slung a grenade launcher over his shoulder while 1st Recon gathered their things. Morton shook his head.

"You'll need them. I smell trouble."

Merritt gave him a grim smile, and Morton noticed Lieutenant Gorobets approach.

"You're the only one listening on Layla… If something goes wrong, you're going to have to help her." He said the last part stiffly, which immediately rankled Morton.

"Listen you hot-headed Neanderthal, I know my duty. If something-"

Gorobets looked like he was going to jump at him over the table, but Merritt got in his way.

"Albert knows what he's doing, and he'll respond if there's trouble," He said to the lieutenant. Gorobets didn't look convinced.

"If something happens, I'll take care of it," Morton finished.

"What about Boone and Mitch?" Corporal Betsy demanded. "What if they need help?"

"We still don't know where they are," Merritt said evenly. "We do know the Last Frontiersmen are planning to set off a bomb at a base where fifty people are stationed. We can't let them achieve their aim."

The woman glared at him for a moment, then looked away. All of 1st Recon was tense since the disappearance of Team Three. Morton hadn't voiced any opinion, mainly for his face's sake; but if he had to guess, the missing men were either going to be used as hostages, or they were dead. Considering the Frontiersmen's plans, he'd guess dead.

Soon, preparations were complete, and the snipers left. Merritt lingered until he was alone with Morton in the building.

"If something does come up, get Juarez to help you," he said.

"I know what to do," Morton said testily. "Be careful, Merritt."

The other ranger gave him a grim smile, then left the office. Morton sighed and headed up to the listening station. It was just turning seven. The Courier would be meeting up with the terrorists soon.

Unplugging the headphones, he sat down as the sound of recorded footfalls filled the room. Granville had been quiet since she parted with Merritt. They'd listened in as she'd gone back to the saloon, though they'd only known she had by hearing the owner speak to her.

The girl had picked up the habit of announcing what she was doing to the microphone for the benefit of those who were listening. All they'd heard when she got to her room was the sounds of equipment getting resorted.

"Oh… hey Lansing," the Courier's voice crackled flatly over the radio, breaking Morton out of his musing. The ranger groaned; of course it would be him leading her alone to the base.

"Hey sweetness, let's go."

"So where is it?" the girl asked as the sound of crunching gravel came over the radio.

"Not far, one of those 'hiding out in plain view' things," Lansing answered.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry, baby, we'll be there soon." There was more crunching, then Granville made an unhappy sound.

"Oh, we're not going up that creepy mountain are we? I heard it's haunted."

"It used to have super mutants, but they're long gone," said Lansing. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Even Morton was getting disgusted with the man's terrible advances, but the Courier had managed to identify where they were going: Black Mountain. They'd never even considered the abandoned radio station.

There were more sounds of movement as the two made their way up the mountain.

"You're gonna like what Kreeder's got for you," Lansing said eventually.

"Oh yeah? Give me a hint," the girl responded.

"He wants to test you loya-"

The feed suddenly burst into static. Frowning, Albert went to the equipment to see if he could regain the signal. After a few fruitless moments, he frowned. Black Mountain had a lot of radio equipment. It would be simple to jam frequencies…

Morton shook his head as he ran to grab his hat and his assault carbine. He was right; it was a trap.

*.*.*

Layla felt her stomach flutter as they reached Black Mountain's gates. It may have had something to do with the large amount of radiation they'd just walked through. She'd have to get a hold of some Rad-Away; after the last time she nearly died from radiation poisoning, she wasn't looking to have it happen again.

She had to give it to the Frontiersmen; the radio station was an excellent idea for a base. People avoided it because of Tabitha's warnings and the radiation, and all the buildings made for a good hideout.

Lansing led her past the 'prison' building of the complex and to the supply building, where Kreeder was leaning against the door.

"Jackie, I'm glad you made it," the man said as they approached. "I've got something for you to do."

"I'm ready," she replied, feeling her stomach start to clench. If 1st Recon and Merritt couldn't take care of this bomb situation from the outside, she was going to have to do it alone. That would probably mean fighting everyone off and defusing the thing herself.

"Good," the man replied. "Think of this as your first and last test. If you do as you're asked, you'll be a full member of our group."

Layla nodded, and the man moved to the door.

"Excellent. Right this way."

He opened the door, and they walked through. The storage room was still as maze-like as it had been the last time Layla was here, and still full of junk. This must have been where they were making the bomb.

At least that was what she thought until she turned the last corner to the back of the room.

Mitch and Katie were tied to chairs in the corner, next to a generator that Dr. Dross was tinkering with. She looked up as they entered and smiled.

"Ah, are you here to help, Jackie?"

Layla couldn't respond as she stared at Boone, who was stripped to the waist and tied to the table near the generator.

"Yes," Kreeder said behind her. "You'll be assisting Mary with getting some information out our subject here."


	12. Penny Dreadful

Kreeder wished he had a holo-vid recorder. He could think of many people who'd love to see the scene before him. It would have to suffice just to commit everything to memory instead.

The Courier was still doing an admirable job of keeping her reactions in check. The girl was casting her eyes about, clearly trying to think of a way out of this.

"Why is Katie here?" she asked. "Does Darren know about this?"

"No," Kreeder answered. Ah, he'd heard Layla Granville was supposed to be clever; she'd picked out the real problem in this set up. "That is a… delicate problem."

"Delicate?" she scoffed. "What do you plan on doing with her?"

"Nothing," Kreeder answered, "for now. Darren is going to have to help her understand the merits of discretion. Otherwise, we'll have to deal with her in a more permanent fashion."

The Courier didn't bother hiding her contempt. She was about to speak again when Dross interrupted her.

"Now now, we are not going to hurt Katelyn. We have other matters to deal with." She turned to Granville with a sickly smile.

"How much do you know about the human body?"

"I… Not much," the girl replied, glancing at man bound on the table. Craig Boone looked angry, but Kreeder was curious to see how he'd fare against pain. Dross was nearly giddy as she continued.

"Don't worry, dear. Dr. Dross will teach you." She stepped up to the table. "Kreeder, you've brought me a healthy young man," she said serenely in his direction.

"I knew you'd be pleased, doctor," the man responded.

"I am." She smiled as she reached over and grasped a set of wires connected to electrodes. "I have not had a strong, handsome man to work on in a long time." She gave the bound man a pat on the cheek while he glowered. "He is grumpy, though," she laughed. "We'll make him friendlier, yes?"

"Now," she said as she turned back to the Courier, holding the wires in her hand. "These are electrodes; they will conduct electricity through the body. The key is to use a high voltage but a low current. It keeps your subject alive longer, but oh, does it hurt."

The Courier paled significantly.

"First…" The doctor moved to the tool tray by the table. "We clean the spots where the electrodes will be attached."

The older woman dabbed alcohol on a few areas of the sniper's chest. He squirmed slightly at first, then turned his eyes to the ceiling and squared his jaw.

"Now, we put the electrodes close enough for a circuit to be made in the flesh, but far enough to make a memorable burst of pain," the doctor continued as she applied the wires. Soon four different spots on the sniper's chest were fixed with electrodes.

"I suppose it is only fair we give the young man a chance to speak," Dross said as she looked over her handiwork. "Jackie, dear, remove the gag and let Mr. Kreeder ask his questions."

The girl hesitated for a moment, then reached over and pulled the cloth that had been tied around his mouth. The man's expression softened for a moment as he looked at the Courier, then snapped back to a glare he fixed on Dr. Dross.

"Go on, Mr. Kreeder," the old woman said. Kreeder turned his gaze back to their captive.

"Why are you and your unit in New Sloan?" he asked. "The real reason."

The sniper glowered at him, then looked up at the ceiling.

"Boone, Craig. Specialist. 13079967," was all he said.

"Hmph, I hate that little chant," Dross said. "All right Jackie, put the gag back in."

The Courier froze; she'd been wringing the cloth in her hands.

"Go on, dear. He won't bite." Dross started laughing. "Well, he might… Sometimes they do."

The girl didn't move, and Dross motioned for Lansing.

"That's all right. Lansing will do it, won't you?"

"You got it," the man said with a grin as he took the gag from the Courier.

*.*.*

_Stay calm. If you move now, you'll probably get everyone killed_, her brain said to her again as she forced herself to remain still.

Lansing had moved to tie Boone's gag back on, but the sniper seemed to take Dr. Dross' suggestion to heart and bit the man.

"AH! Son of a bitch!" the man cried, then backhanded the sniper. Lansing quickly tied the gag back on before Boone could recover from the blow.

Layla was going to throw up; she could feel her stomach turning horribly. They were really going to torture him. Oh God, oh God, oh God-

_CALM DOWN_, said her brain. _Calm and think! Come up with one of those plans you're so famous for._ She almost didn't notice as Dross walked over to the generator.

"This thing is tricky, but you can control the voltage here…" The old woman adjusted a dial. "… and the current here." She worked another dial, this time much more carefully.

"My last subject was a weak, old thing. We will be able to learn much from this boy, even if he refuses to speak," Dross said happily. "Old men set in their ways don't have much to live for. But this one's so young…" the woman trailed off with a sickly smile. Layla had to stop herself from shuddering as the doctor looked at Boone like he was lab rat.

"Enough talk; let us begin," the older woman said as she reached for the generator again, flicking a switch. There was a crackling noise, then a loud buzz. The sniper started writhing against the ropes holding him as he screamed, muffled by both the gag and his clenched jaw.

*.*.*

Kreeder noticed a strange, blank look come over the Courier the moment her sniper began screaming. She reached down and ripped the electrodes off the man, then pulled an ornate .45 from one of the pouches on her armor.

Kreeder had barely registered what was happening before Granville struck Dross over the head and shot Lansing. She turned the gun in Kreeder's direction, but he dove behind one of the rows of supplies before she could line up a shot.

He came back up, his own pistol drawn. He almost got her on the first shot, but she threw herself to the ground. She rolled to her side and behind a shelf before he could shoot her. Ducking down, Kreeder looked around his immeadiate area and spotted a propane canister on the shelf next to him.

Just as he moved to grab it, he heard something above him. The Courier was standing over him, grimace plastered on her face. Just as he moved to shoot her, she fired.

Kreeder was knocked back into the shelf behind him. She'd hit him in the heart; he'd die soon. He slid down the shelf he'd landed against, cursing his poor planning. He'd been warned about this girl. He should have been more careful with her.

As he felt the life draining from him, he heard the crackle and buzz of the generator start back up, soon followed by Craig Boone's screams.

Kreeder's last thought was a sincere hope that the sniper would die with him.

*.*.*

Katie wanted to close her eyes; she couldn't stand the sight of the helpless sniper in pain. Jackie came running back around the corner with blood splashed on her face and that crazy look still in her eyes.

Dr. Dross had reattached the electrodes and turned up the power on the generator, probably hoping to use Boone as a distraction to escape, but Jackie intercepted the doctor on her way to the door, knocking her over.

The red-haired woman pulled the electrodes off again and started to turn when Dross crashed bodily into her. The doctor had a knife in her hand, which she swung at the younger woman.

Jackie got cut across her arm, but didn't seem to notice as she shoved the electrodes into the doctor's face. Dross shrieked and flopped over, writhing on the floor. The other woman stood and backed away as Dross screamed. The doctor had gone silent before Jackie reached the generator and switched it off.

Jackie stared at the dead woman for a stunned moment, then shook her head. She looked like herself again as she rushed over to Boone.

"Oh God, are you okay?" she said, pulling the gag out of his mouth. The sniper groaned as he tried to move. Jackie had tears in her eyes as she dug some syringes out of one of her armor's pouches. She injected him with a few stimpaks and a med-x and started cutting the ropes off him.

"I'm okay," the man said as Jackie moved to help him sit up. "Med-x is kicking in."

"Oh, my poor baby," Jackie said, then leaned in and kissed him. Katie stared, wide-eyed, as the sniper gingerly wrapped an arm around her. They parted a moment later, and Jackie turned to Katie and Mitch.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked, walking over. Mitch nodded dumbly as she cut him free.

"Did they hurt you?" Jackie asked as she freed Katie as well. The girl shook her head, still staring. The other woman noticed her expression.

"Oh… Oh yeah. Uh," she bit her lip and looked over to Boone. "I guess the jig is up, huh?"

"Yeah," the sniper said as he gingerly pulled his undershirt over his head.

"I've been working undercover for the NCR," Jackie said. "Boone and I are… you know, together. My real name is Layla."

"Oh… That answers a few questions, actually," Katie blurted out. "What now?"

"Now we get you back home and Boone to a doctor." She glared down at Dross. "A good one."

Katie turned to see one of the rangers enter the room. She shrieked in surprise, and the rest of the room turn to see what she'd reacted to.

"Morton!" Layla cried. "Oh am I happy to see you." The ranger looked at the bodies on the ground, then back to the woman.

"What happened?"

"I found Boone and Mitch," she said with a shrug. "I guess the mission's scrapped. What are you doing here?"

"They were using the equipment here to jam your wiretap. They knew you were a mole."

Layla gaped, "If that's true, the story Lansing told must have been fake."

"The bomb isn't," Mitch spoke up. "We saw it."

"Then they're leading 1st Recon into a trap," Morton said. "We didn't question the intel you got, but it was probably intended to lead them where Kreeder wanted."

"We need to get to them," Layla gasped. The others scrambled to gather their things.

*.*.*

Sterling didn't like this. That wasn't surprising; nothing about this situation was good. Boone and Mitch could be dead for all they knew, and they didn't know what the Frontiersmen's exact plan was.

The rest of 1st Recon was silent as they continued down the Long 15. Gorobets had been particularly irritable; he hadn't liked leaving only Morton to watch over Layla.

He understood his CO's apprehension; some rangers worked better alone than with a team. Morton was a very capable man. Sterling had heard about him from other rangers. But looking out for other, less-capable teammates was something he'd consider a waste of time.

Currently, they were making poor time. They'd run into several Powder Gangers on the way, and it had taken time putting them down. They'd only just reached the highway sign announcing Primm and they had left more than an hour ago.

"H-hey! Someone help!" came a scream from a rock canyon to the east. The group froze, and Gorobets moved to get a better look.

"Team Two, get down there. Team One, get up on the ridge and cover them," Gorobets ordered. "We're going around the back," he said to Merritt, who nodded.

Sterling and Bitter-Root managed to scramble up the ridge in time to see Betsy and Spades round one of the corners. There was a man pressed against one of the rocks ahead, gun drawn. Sterling dropped him before the others got into his line of sight, then all hell broke loose.

Men started popping out from cover on the ridge, along the canyons and from the road behind them.

"Fuck," Bitter-Root cried. "What do we do?"

"Cover the road," Sterling said. "I've got the ones on the ridge." The younger man nodded and turned, and the older man heard him start firing.

Just as Sterling began picking off the men in his sights, he heard a loud pop.

"What was that?" Bitter-Root cried.

"Don't know… Oh shit."

"What?"

"It was a bomb," Sterling responded.

"That was some weak-ass bomb," Bitter-Root called back.

"Chlorine bomb. Cover your nose and mouth!" came a shout from the canyon.

*.*.*

"I think I seem them… South by South East," Boone said as he scoured the area with his rifle's scope. "They're under attack."

"We have to hurry," Layla said, sounding tense.

"We have to be careful," Morton corrected. He looked at Boone and Mitch. "You two are going to need to keep an eye out for snipers."

Boone nodded as he slung his rifle over his back. The motion hurt. Everything hurt. The Med-X had worn off not long after they'd dropped Katie off at her parents' house as they'd passed through town. Layla had wanted him to stay with Juarez or the Mayor, but he wasn't staying behind while the rest of his unit ran into a trap. Once he'd made it clear he was going with them, she tried to give him another dose of Med-x. He'd refused; more than one tended to make his head too fuzzy to concentrate.

She'd let it go. She wasn't a fan of using the stuff either, but he caught her giving him worried looks. He wanted to let her know he was okay, but that would be a lie. His skin hurt like hell, and the spots on his chest the electrodes had touched felt like they were on fire.

The look on Layla's face while he'd been tortured had almost been worse than the pain. He wished she hadn't been there to see it. There wasn't time to think about it right now. He'd worry about it later.

Mitch had been very quiet the whole trip; Boone guessed he was upset too. He'd suggested his partner stay in town just to make sure there wasn't some kind of trouble, but Mitch had laughed. Boone was pretty sure that had been bravado.

It didn't matter now; they'd lick their wounds once they'd taken care of the rest of the Frontiersmen. He pushed away the concerns and ignored the pain for now; he needed to concentrate as they made their approach to the combat zone.

It didn't take long to find a rifleman in the area. He spotted a scope just as they were getting in range of 1st Recon.

"Sniper!" Boone cried, then dove down as he hooked an arm around Layla's waist. He'd done so just in time; a shot ricocheted off a nearby boulder. Boone quickly pulled the rifle off his back and searched the ridge for the shooter.

It didn't take long to find him; whoever it was hadn't bothered to move after they'd fired. He quickly took the man out.

"He's down," Boone announced to the others.

"Well this is romantic," Layla said from under him. Boone looked down, realizing he was still covering the girl. She had her binoculars to her eyes a moment later and checked the spot he'd just shot the rifleman down from.

"He looks like a-"

"Powder Ganger," Morton finished from behind them. Boone and Layla went back to looking at the downed man. He was wearing only a cutoff pair of pants, but it looked like the ones issued by the NCRCF.

"Son of a bitch," Layla growled from his side. "They must have been working together…"

"The Gangers aren't known for working with others; they were probably paid," Morton added. "Come on, we need to keep moving."

Boone and Layla got back to their feet and continued toward the canyon.

"What's that smell?" Layla asked as they neared the huge rocks. There were a few more Powder Ganger bodies lying around, all shot cleanly in the head.

"Some kind of tear gas," Morton said, then dug in one of his pouches, pulling out two breathing masks. He pulled on one and threw the other to Boone, who in turn handed it to Layla.

"Boone, you're better with a-" she started to say.

"Put it on," he said stiffly. The Courier sighed but didn't argue as she slipped on the mask.

"Your eyes will still be affected," Morton said as they continued. "We'll have to be quick."

"Sterling and Bitter-Root are on top of the ridge," Mitch said, pointing.

"Go up and help them," Boone said to him. He looked back to find Layla pulling a shotgun off a dead Ganger.

"Oh sweet baby, I could kiss you," she said to the weapon, then looked back at the others. "I've got point."

Boone didn't argue; Layla was dangerous with a shotgun. Morton motioned for them to continue on, and they made their approach to the canyon.

The smoke was bad. If anyone had been caught by the bomb, they'd have been incapacitated quickly. Just as Layla was starting to turn the first corner, a voice rang out from above them.

"Hey, don't bother" It was Bitter-Root from the ridge above, "We've almost got them all."

"Oh," Layla said, "All righty then."

The sound of rifle fire filled the air a moment later, then the canyon went silent. A few minutes later, 1st Recon and the rangers all converged on the road. Boone noticed their cuffed prisoner as Merritt led him to the others.

"Darren," Layla said, surprised. "What happened?"

"They would have gotten the drop on us if he hadn't warned us," Merritt said.

"Sorry, Jackie… I couldn't kill in cold blood," he said with a shrug. "I betrayed the Frontiersmen I'm telling them everything. It's over. I'm sure you're not happy with me, but this was going too far."

Layla grinned. "Oh, I'm a lot happier than you might think."

The man looked confused, but Gorobets spoke up before either could continue.

"Are you guys okay? What happened?" he asked.

Boone took a breath and spoke. "We were captured with Katie Williams at the Frontiersmen's weapon cache-"

"_What_?" Darren cried. "Is she okay? Did they hurt her?"

"She's okay," Layla said quickly. "They didn't hurt her. She's back at your parents' house."

The man nodded, letting out a breath as he shook his head. "I think they killed Vincent Caruthers… They were holding things back from me. I don't know if they didn't trust me or if they thought I wouldn't stand for it." He shrugged.

"How did you escape?" Gorobets asked Boone.

"Layla killed them."

There was a pause. "How many?"

"Kreeder, Lansing and Dr. Dross," Boone continued. Gorobets turned a half-grin at the girl. She looked like she was going to say something, but Boone heard a noise coming from the rocks canyon mouth.

"Demarco, no!" Williams shouted. Boone moved without thinking, getting in front of Layla and pushing Darren down. He barely registered the shot that was fired a moment later, but felt the bullet tear through him just below the chest plate on his armor.

The impact knocked him off his feet, but he heard another shot and angry shouting.

"Boone!" Layla cried as she suddenly filled his vision. "Hold on, it's okay."

He coughed, trying to speak. It was getting hard to breathe. "Lung, right?" he managed to croak.

"Shh," the Courier said as she frantically dug through her pouches. "Don't talk."

He was having a hard time concentrating. Layla was back in his view. He could just make out the concern on her face as she started cutting his uniform off.

He hissed when the cold night air touched the wound, but he still made out someone cursing. It must look bad.

"It's okay," Layla said, though it was hard to hear her over the rushing in his ears. "I think his lung collapsed, we're going to have to get the air…"

He didn't hear the rest. Couldn't. Didn't sound like it was good news anyway. He was starting to slip, he could feel it.

"Layla," he croaked. He couldn't see her, but felt a soft hand on his cheek.

"Don't talk, sweetheart. It's going to be okay. You've got to stay awake for me."

"Can't," he murmured. "Sorry." The hand on his cheek started slapping his face lightly.

"Come on, keep awake." Her voice was sounding more panicked.

"Sorry," Boone croaked again. He had wanted to tell her something. It was important, but he couldn't remember.

"Stay with me," Layla sounded pleading this time.

Boone tried to respond, but everything had blacked out.

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading. "The Last Frontiersmen" will conclude next Wednesday. One week from then, we shall begin the story everyone keeps asking about, "The Message."<p>

(Thank you to my editor, my homeboy Dunebar and the Silent Hill OST for helping me write that nasty scene in the beginning)


	13. Right as Rain

Everything hurt worse than it did before. Boone opened his eyes, then closed them immediately with a grimace. The light was dim, but his eyes were over-sensitive. He tried again and was able to make out that he was in a hospital bed in a pre-war building.

"You're awake?," came voice from his side. "How 'bout that." He looked over, but couldn't make out the face of the man sitting on the chair near the bed. He attempted to turn over but groaned as his body lit up with pain.

"Woah, easy there. You've been out cold for most of the day, now," the man said, moving closer to put a hand on his shoulder. Boone finally recognized Doc Mitchell as his eyes started to focus.

"Why don't you just relax a second, get your bearings."

Boone nodded and let his head fall back on the pillow.

"What happened?" he asked, noting how hoarse his voice sounded. Mitchell chuckled humorlessly.

"Well, son, you got shot in the chest. It pierced your lung, collapsed it. Luckily one of your friends was able to inflate it and stabilize you. They carried you here, and I got the bullet out." He heard the man sigh, then continue. "The electrical burns and damage to the skin and muscles on your torso weren't enough to cause any permanent damage, but the whole mess has weakened you for now."

Boone frowned, letting his eyes close. The hand on his shoulder gave a final pat before retreating.

"I'll let your friends know you're awake, but take it easy."

Boone nodded again and heard the man's footsteps move away. Mitchell had only been gone a few moments before someone came into the room.

"Hey Boone." He opened his eyes to find Bitter-Root and Jack of Spades at his bedside. "You're awake, right?"

"Yeah," he answered, closing his eyes again.

"Listen…" Bitter-Root started, "the Doc wanted one of us to talk to you about what happened. He figured this should come from a friend, and Layla's all upset…"

His eyes snapped back open. "What is it?"

"You lost a lot of blood, and you couldn't breathe right for a while… There was some damage to your skin," Bitter-Root continued.

"Especially in your face," Spades added. "It's-s-s not that… well, it's… here." He handed Boone a mirror. The older sniper grabbed it, then took a breath and looked at his reflection.

There was a dark-haired woman of Asian descent with a strong chin staring back at him. Looking at the mirror, he noticed 'Reflectron' stamped on the side.

"What?"

The two men were laughing now. Spades walked over and turned a dial. Boone's normal face appeared on the machine. Everything looked like it was in the right place, except he looked pale and tired.

"You're kinda hot as Asian chick," Bitter-Root laughed.

"What's going on in here?" Layla's voice sounded stern as she walked into the room. She smiled when she made eye contact with Boone, but frowned when she saw the reflectron.

"You two aren't picking on my injured man, _are you_?" the Courier growled. Bitter-Root and Jack of Spades both stopped laughing.

"Of c-c-course not!" Spades stammered.

"We'll just leave you two alone," Bitter-Root said, still grinning. Layla shook her head at them as they left the room, then walked over to Boone's bed.

"Hey," she said, then leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey," he said back. "Are you okay?"

Layla laughed at that. "Only you would ask about me after getting your organs shot up." She gave him a good-natured smile. "I'm fine; how are you feeling?"

He thought about lying, but Layla knew too much about surgery to not already have a good idea.

"My… everything hurts," he answered. The Courier's smile turned into a concerned frown a she sat at the head of the bed.

"My poor sweetheart." She leaned over and kissed his forehead, then seemed to notice the reflectron in his hands.

"Let me see that." She took the machine and started playing with the dials.

"You need to see me as a dude with a big beard; here."

She leaned to the side and tilted the machine so he could see her reflection; Man-Layla's beard was impressive.

"Hey, look who's awake."

Boone looked up to see Lieutenant Gorobets, Betsy, Sterling and Ranger Merritt walk in. Gorobets was giving him a tight smile.

"You had us worried there," the lieutenant said as he walked up to the bed.

"Sorry," Boone answered, and his CO waved away the apology.

"How you feeling?" Betsy asked, then handed Layla a bottle of water. The Courier twisted the top off and handed it to him. He took a drink before answering.

"Terrible."

Gorobets chuckled. "I'd imagine. Good news is the mission's accomplished… as much as it's going to be, anyway."

"The Last Frontiersmen are definitely disbanded," Merritt agreed, "especially since only one of them is still alive."

"What about the Long 15 base?" Boone asked. Merritt shook his head.

"I doubt they ever really planned to attack the base. It was a trap to take us out."

"It probably would have worked if it weren't for Darren," Gorobets added.

"He cut a deal with us. We're letting him go if he makes an official statement of what he told us," Merritt continued.

"What'd he say?" Boone asked.

"Mayor Williams contracted the people who sabotaged the equipment in Quarry Junction," the ranger continued, "They would go on to join the New Frontiersmen and steer the group to active terrorism."

"And between the deathclaws and the equipment problems, William was able to buy Sloan and Quarry Junction off the NCR on the cheap," Layla added. "He paid them in weapons: that armory you and Mitch found. I think that's why Clarke bought that dress for me; he wanted to keep his son focused on a girl instead of dealing with a pack of terrorists he indirectly created."

"As for Kreeder and the rest of the New Frontiersmen, their secrets will follow them to the grave," Merritt said with a shrug. "It's a shame, but at least there'll be no more deaths because of them. We found Vincent Caruthers' body. It looks like he was electrocuted."

"Getting attached to a generator isn't a good way to go," Boone grumbled. Layla was frowning again as she reached over to stroke his arm soothingly.

"So Williams is going back to California in irons," Merritt concluded. "I hear his wife is going back too."

"What's gonna happen to New Sloan?" Betsy asked. "The Mayor's leaving, half the quarry workers and their mechanic are dead, and they never got a new trade deal worked out with the Crimson Caravan."

"Darren and Katie are staying," Merritt answered. "They're hoping to keep things going again."

"And I'm sure I can twist some arms at Crimson Caravan," Layla said thoughtfully. "They owe me a few favors."

"Either way, the mission's over, and you all did an excellent job," Merritt said, then smiled in Layla's direction. "You don't disappoint."

The Courier blushed, then frowned. "I get the feeling I'm not getting any more undercover work, huh?"

"Definitely not," Merritt said with a laugh. "I'm afraid you're a little too well known now."

Layla looked embarrassed, but Boone had to hide a smile; no more undercover work for Layla was the best news he'd heard all day.

"All right kids," Doc Mitchell said as he returned. "I'm sure whatever it is you're all talking about is fascinating, but my patient needs to rest."

"That's right," Gorobets said as the others started to leave. "I almost forgot; you're officially on medical leave." He pointed a finger at Boone. "You're not returning to duty until cleared by a doctor."

"That's good to hear," Mitchell said. "Now go on and get." The doctor held up a hand as Layla started to get up.

"You can stay. I'm sure he wouldn't mind a little company."

"Thanks Doc," the Courier said.

"Just call if you need anything," he answered as he left the room.

*.*.*

Layla pulled the comforter over Boone, then grabbed her quilt and laid it on top of him as well. The Lucky 38 usually had a slight chill, she wanted him comfortable. She started looking around for her other quilt when Boone spoke up.

"Layla?"

"Hm?" she asked as she started checking her different wardrobes for the other blanket.

"I'm warm enough..."

"Oh." She closed the lid on her weapon chest and looked up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He patted the spot next to him. Layla got on her side of the bed and scooted over to him. She moved to put an arm over his chest, but caught herself. The electrical burns on his torso had started healing nicely, but they'd smart for a while. Just thinking about them made her stomach clench.

"Hey," Boone said, and she looked at him. "What's bothering you?"

Layla sighed, "I'm okay... I'm just worried about you."

"I'll heal," he said with a shrug, then winced at the motion.

"Poor baby." She moved closer and started stroking his cheek. "Can I get you anything?"

"No; just stay here for now," he answered. Layla kissed his cheek and snuggled up to his side. Boone sighed and reached an arm around her, gently stroking her hair.

He'd been hurt so badly in just two days; they were lucky he'd lived. Coming so close to losing him just made her think more about her feelings for him. She loved him, and she wanted him to know. But now wasn't the time; he was still recovering, and if he didn't... want to reciprocate, that brand of awkward wouldn't be help him get better.

She looked over at the man, and found his eyes closed. Layla smiled; Doc Mitchell had figured he'd be tired from the walk to the Strip. There had been some debate whether his moving that far was a good idea, but the doctor figured he'd be happier and recover faster at home.

He'd probably end up sleeping most of the day, though. That was fine with Layla; it would give her some time to work on his welcome-home/get-well present.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek gently to see if he was sleeping deeply. The corners of his mouth smirked a little, but otherwise he didn't move.

Layla slowly got out of the bed and started for the door. She stopped by her desk, scooping up her Pip-Boy and slipping it on.

"Ahhh," she whispered to herself, "that's better." The familiar weight was comforting. She looked through the menus for a moment, then headed for the kitchen. Veronica was sitting at the table as she walked in.

"How is he?" the scribe asked.

"He's sleeping," Layla answered as she started gathering ingredients. "The walk over tired him out."

"Poor guy," the scribe said, shaking her head. "I wish I'd gotten a crack at that witch."

"I think I might have jammed some of the wires into her eyes," the Courier said glaring at one of the apples she'd picked up.

"Good," Cass said as she walked in. "You should have electrocuted every last one of those bastards."

"Would've if I could've," Layla said as she started peeling apples. "They're all dead at any rate."

"What are you doing?" Veronica asked, looking at the mound of apples in front of the Courier.

"Baking a pie."

"You can bake pies?"

"Well, it won't be as good as one of my mom's, but it should be decent." She went back to peeling. "I'm making two, one for the house, one for Boone."

"Awww, why does he get a whole pie?" the scribe whined.

"When you get electro-tortured, you can have your own pie."

The other woman conceded to that, and Layla went back to work.

"Don't mind her shortness," Cass said to Veronica. "She's just moody she won't be getting any while soldier boy recovers." The older woman grinned. "You know, if you rode him, he'd be fine. But noooooo, it's gotta be him doing all the work, doesn't it?"

Layla looked up from her apples with a scowl.

"Are you ever going to tell us about him?" Veronica piped up.

"_Fine_," Layla said with a loud sigh. "But you have to promise you'll never speak to anyone else about it. Okay?"

"We promise." Veronica scooted closer. "Go on, spill it."

Layla stuck her chin up and tried to give off an air of dignity.

"Okay, first; have you ever had sex in a broom closet?"

* * *

><p>Well, there you have it: my first non-direct-game-plot-story! I hope you liked it and thanks for reading. Please tune in next Wednesday for the beginning of 'The Message.'<p> 


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